


War Machine

by Dicax_Asina



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - 1940s, F/M, WW2, WW2 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-07 20:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 29,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16415822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dicax_Asina/pseuds/Dicax_Asina
Summary: Elijah Kamski - smart, sly, secretive, and the creator of what many Americans see as a guarantee of success in The Second World War: Androids.Said machines are used only in the military, their sole purpose being to destroy, obliterate, and terminate.Being the personal assistant of Kamski has its advantages: not only do you get to interact with a living legend on a daily basis, but you also have the chance to work with Androids. To help developing new models and fix the old ones.Although that may sound easy in the given context, things complicate a lot when Kamski's most advanced model, the RK800, returns to your workshop, severely damaged and completely lacking its memories.





	1. Chapter 1

"Delivery for Kamski, straight outta Normandy."

"Over here!" You called, raising your hand to grab the courier's attention. He stopped the cheap car, sliding off the fake leather seat, only to drag a carboard box out of the back seat. The package was about 6 foot tall, you approximated. Surely another Android, sent for you and Elijah to fix. That wasn't anything new. The courier adjusted the box to stand upright beside him with gruff movements. Far too gruff.

"Hey, hey, watch it! It's worth a small fortune." You warned. 

"And it fuckin' weighs like that too." The man added, puffing air in his cheeks, then narrowing his eyes at you. "This is for mister Kamski. You're not Kamski."

"(Y/n) (l/n), mister Kamski's personal assistant." You replied, subtly mocking the tone of his voice. The courier didn't seem to have caught onto it. "Now, if you'd be kind enough to help me carry the package inside his workshop, that would be delightful."

The man grunted in annoyance, but didn't comment.

-

You threw the key inside the small lock and entered, the familiar smell of metal and cleaning supplies flooding your nostrils. 

"That should do it. Thank you." You nodded at the man and hurried inside one of the other, smaller rooms. Your boss' study. You looked through one of the dressers in Kamski's desk, finding the exact amount of money needed to pay the courier in the first one. How your boss managed to plan down things down to even the smallest detail was a mystery to you. You returned to the courier, who was standing next to the package with a tired, clueless look on his face. "Here."

"Yeah." The man took the sum of money from you with calloused, greasy hands and spun on his heels, leaving.

"Have a nice day." You added, receiving a grunt of acknowledgement as a response.

Now all you'd have to do was wait for Kamski.

-

"Good morning, (y/n)." Elijah greeted, stepping inside the workshop and shucking off his overcoat. "I see the package has arrived."

You rushed to take the coat from him and hang it up on the wall. "Yes, just ten minutes before you got here. I haven't opened it yet."

"Good. Do that now. Let's see what we're dealing with."

"Right away." You reached for the nearest blade you could find and cut the cardboard open.

You had seen many Androids, damaged to the extent of irreparability, but this-

"Good lord..."

"They might have as well just sent the head back." Kamski commented, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but stare at the almost disintegrated Android: its Thirium pump was crushed and stuffed back inside the hole it was initially supposed to be beating in, half of the synthetic skin on its face peeled away (by an explosion, you presumed), legs ripped off from the knee down, along with its left arm missing. Not to mention it's clothes: the uniform you had tailored yourself was torn, buttons, hell, even entire sleeves missing.

The worst part? It was the most advanced model Kamski had created so far: the RK800. The only one of its kind so far. Intelligent, resilient, and strong far beyond the level of an average human's.

"Fucking Nazis!" You spat under your breath. "If that's what they're doing to our machines, I don't even want to think about what they're doing to our men!"

"That's just war. Can't blame them." Elijah shook his head and tossed a glance at you over his shoulder. "Let's get it out of there."

Just then realizing how childish and stupid your words had just sounded, heat rose to your cheeks. You had just embarrassed yourself in front of your boss.

"Of course." You nodded and grabbed the ends of the Android's thighs, while Elijah moved to hook his elbows under the machine's armpits. Slightly struggling under the weight of metal and various other components, you managed to drag the machine out of the cardboard shell and onto the operation table. Although your boss carried a fair amount of the weight.

Not waiting any further, Elijah immediately pulled a stool beside the table and sat down, inspecting the robot. 

You couldn't help but notice the symmetry of its face, modeled especially by you and Elijah to look as aesthetically pleasing as possible. Dark brown hair styled backwards in perfection, without leaving even a single curl excluded. The machine's chocolate brown eyes were thrown wide open in shock, staring at virtually nothing. Poor thing. You wondered what the Android could have seen in its last moments.

"The brain is damaged, the Thirium pump is crushed, and we'll need to replace the legs."

"We should leave the Thirium pump for last." You suggested.

"Exactly."

-

"Christ. That's..."

"Worse than we presumed." Kamski completed your sentence, staring inside the Android's skull through an opening at the top of its head. Millions of wires, occasionally blinking with red, it seemed borderline chaotic. And that's exactly what it was, except for you and your boss. You weren't as skilled as him, but you could make some sense out of it. And from what you could tell, the damage could not have possibly been caused by an explosion. The writes were torn, not in any way burnt or blown away.

"The memory drive is gone." Kamski concluded.

"That requires precision, though. I mean, looking at the rest of its body, it had clearly been damaged by an explosion, but the skull...looks intact, other than the memory drive."

"And the wires ripped to be able to reach it. I know."

"But how-"

Your boss sighed and shook his head. "We're not detectives. Not our business."

Those words did simply not fit Elijah. A smart, curious, cunning man, he was someone that never refused to investigate problems. That's how he had come up with Androids in the first place. And yet he refused to talk about ripped wires inside the head of an Android. Something you thought of as rather thought-provoking.

You wanted to press the issue, but you knew better than that. As a woman, it was already an privilege to have a job. Disobeying your boss was a risk you weren't willing to take.

"I'll need a wire cutter. And a soldering iron."

"Right away, Elijah."


	2. Chapter 2

The night had already settled over Detroit, streetlights spreading flickering rays of over the empty, soulless streets. Your boss was doing the last adjustments on the RK800 as you stood idly by his side, waiting for new instructions.

Elijah handed the last bits of the broken Thirium pump back to you, a smug smile of victory playing on his lips. "I'm done here. Get rid of these."

You took the bits out of his hand, rushing to the nearest metal garbage can, one you only used for throwing away old Android pieces.

"Go ahead, do the honors." He nodded towards the machine, as soon as you had returned by his side. The Android lay on the table, legs replaced, skin patched, brain botched back together as perfectly as humanly possible, thirium pump inserted, just waiting to be turned back on.

"Mr Kamski, I...I don't think that'd be appropriate of me to do."

"Alright then." He raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for a few seconds, presumably in the hope of you changing your mind. When noticing that you refused to, he proceeded to tap the Thirium pump once. It didn't come as a surprise when the machine's motors began whirring, a warm flicker of life passing through its chocolate eyes. Kamski had, as usual, made the impossible possible.

UmVib290aW5n4oCm

UmVib290IGNvbXBsZXRl

The android blinked, once, twice. It then frowned, doe eyes focusing on you. Not a spot behind you, not Kamski, but you. Its chest raised abruptly, then fell, as it sucked in a cautious breath.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Elijah was faster.

"State your model."

"RK800."

"State your year of release and purpose."

"1943. I have been designed to serve in the military forces."

Kamski sat back in his chair, glancing at you. 

"It's memory drive was damaged, but it still knows its year of release and purpose?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"These informations have not been stored in my memory drive. Another part of my brain, much smaller than the memory drive, contains this kind of data. This function has been inspired by the human's 'reptilian brain', which controls similarly basic functions, such as breathing, heart rate, or body temperature." The android explained, still laying on the table, watching you intently. After finishing its explanation, you noticed a small, barely visible smile pass over its lips, presumably at your shocked expression.

"Alright, that's enough." Kamski waved his hand to stop him. "Access your memory drive."

"It hasn't been overwritten, and its state is new."

"As I thought." Kamski concluded. "Run a diagnosis."

U3RhcnRpbmcgZGlhZ25vc2lz4oCm

RGlhZ25vc2lzIGNvbXBsZXRlLiBBbGwgc3lzdGVtcyBvcGVyYXRpb25hbC4gRGFtYWdlZCBza2luLg==

The android switched back to staring at nothing, motors whirring louder than before. That diagnosis was taking far too much time.

"This is taking too long. (Y/n), fetch that notebook." Elijah pointed said object, carefully placed on top of a pile of books.

You nodded and left your boss' side, bringing a thick, yellow-paged notebook enveloped leather back to him. The android was still processing, eyes empty and unfocused.

"Find my notes on the RK800. They should be recent."

You flipped through the pages quickly, eyes scanning over the sketches of various models, but mostly staying focused on the titles written on the very top of the pages.

RK600, RK700...there! RK800.

"Did we use binary or Base64 for its programming?"

" '64. Binary proved to be too unstable for the social integration feature, so we opted for Base64."

"It lost its ability to decode. That's why it's taking so long."

"The android is processing everything in base64?" You asked, confused. It took you a second or two to understand why. "Oh, yes, makes sense. We put the decryption module in the memory drive." That was the best way to keep the systems secure and operational. In case of a memory loss, the android would still be operational, although slow, and it would be completely safe from everyone, except you and Kamski. Elijah himself had come up with said encryption, and had only taught it to you, after many, many promises of keeping it top secret and hidden from the public for, as Kamski had demanded, 'at least the next forty years'.

Elijah nodded at your words. "And since it's our first android which uses Base64..."

"We'll have to adapt its encryptions to the normal alphabet all over again." You added.

"Yes."

"That's going to take a while."

The android blinked, then turned to look at you and your boss. "All my systems are fully operational, although I have detected traces of recent trauma on my skin, and suspect a replacement of my memory drive."

Elijah was silent, however you couldn't help but feel bad if you left the Android talking without giving it a proper answer afterwards. Yes, it was just a machine, but being ignored was never a welcome feeling, you knew that far too well.

"That's all true, RK800." You smiled and gave it an encouraging nod.

"Did I take too long? I'll try running a diagnosis about it." Elijah sighed with a tinge of amusement. You immediately sprung into action.

"No, no, no! Don't. Don't do that. We know what's wrong." You said, hoping to convince the android not to. And strangely enough, it listened.

"I'll put it on standby. We'll continue fixing it tomorrow morning. Staying up all night just to teach it to decode isn't worth it. Send a few older models to replace this one in Normandy. I have a meeting to attend to." Elijah pushed his chair back, rising to his feet without waiting for an answer.

"Of course."

"RK800, stand by." The Android obeyed without further ado, closing its eyes. The fans inside it stopped whirring instantly, reduced to a barely audible humming.

Kamski made his way into the hallway, slipping on his overcoat.

Just leaving the robot behind like that felt somewhat...wrong. Kind of like abandoning an unknowing child for an entire night, leaving it to its own devices. You blamed your unusual, sudden courage on motherly instincts.

"I...um..."

"Yes?" Kamski stopped, on the verge of leaving.

"I can...try. I can try recovering its ability to decode. I don't have any plans for tonight."

Your boss looked at you, skeptically, then thoughtfully. "Alright. Lock the door on your way out. If you mess up, don't try to fix it. Just wait until tomorrow. Got it?"

"Got it."

The man's brows furrowed. "Don't lose the key, don't forget it anywhere, don't give it to anyone."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He scanned your gaze carefully, then nodded calmly. "Alright. Good evening." Without another word, Kamski left.

"Good evening, mister Kamski."

His steps echoed down the stairwell, then faded into the night. Now it was just you, the workshop, and the RK800.


	3. Chapter 3

"RK800, restart." You spoke, watching as the machine's eyes fluttered open.

"At your service." It stated, quickly managing to find you with its gaze.

"I don't believe I've been introduced to you." You smiled, sitting down in front of it on Kamski's chair. The machine watched you idly, its soft, slightly confused chocolate gaze following your every movement. "I'm (y/n). (Y/n) (l/n)."

TmFtZSBzYXZlZCBpbiBkYXRhYmFzZQ==

"Can you sit up?"

The Android obeyed, although you hadn't exactly given a command. It sat on the edge of the table, hands set in its lap, back perfectly straight, shoulders tense. It looked anything but natural. You made a mental note of working on that later.

Just then, you got a chance to observe its clothes: the uniform you had personally handmade two months ago, back in April, was torn, one sleeve missing, and its pants were ripped from the knees down. You'd have to replace those too.

"Is something wrong?" It had obviously noticed you staring.

"No, RK800. Do you, by any chance, remember anything else other than your model, purpose, and year of release?"

"I..." It stopped once again, fans whirring a tad faster. "I know I have been created by Elijah Kamski. I have extensive knowledge about weapons and fighting styles, as well as basic knowledge about human interactions."

"Good. That's good. Anything else?"

It stopped to think, slightly asymmetrical brows furrowing. "No."

"Alright. That's fine. Wait here." You left the machine by itself, searching for a pen and a piece of paper. You decided to test if Kamski's hypothesis was correct. 

You returned quickly, putting the piece of paper on the table, beside the Android, scribbling down the first sentence that came to mind.

I like dogs.

"Can you read that?" You asked, presenting the piece of paper to it. Its face turned into a confused scowl. 

"I know the characters, but I can't identify any sort of meaning behind it." It stated matter-of-factly. "Humans are bad at remembering information without any meaning behind it. Would you like me to save it in my database for later use?"

"No, that's not necessary." You shook your head and set the piece of paper back down, getting to work again. It did take some time to write the next sentence, although it had the exact same meaning as the first one. "How about this one, RK800?"

SSBsaWtlIGRvZ3M=

"I like dogs." It said quickly. "That's what it reads."

Kamski had been right, as usual. "Correct."

"Is that a fact? Do you like dogs?" It asked, brows raising, a soft half-smile gracing its features.

"Well," You stifled a chuckle at its curiosity. "I don't dislike them. What about you?"

"I've seen dogs before. I think." It frowned, LED blinking amber, then nodded. "Yes, I don't dislike them either."

You couldn't help but notice how adorable the Android was. The way its lips pouted slightly when it thought, and the way it tilted its head when it processed information. Physically, you and Kamski had done an excellent job at creating a perfectly lovable imitation of a human. Too bad that that wasn't its purpose.

"I'll get working on your decryption feature." You stated, positioning yourself to stand behind it as it still sat on the table, allowing you to tower over it and be able to properly see the back of its head.

"Would you like me to switch on standby?"

"No, it's probably best if I can keep testing your functionality along the way." You explained. "Just stay like seated on the table like this."

"Got it."

With a quick movement, you brushed aside its soft, synthetic brown hair and opened its skull. A soft tremor went through its body, but the machine didn't say anything else. You shrugged it off as a system glitch.

"RK800, I'll need you to take that pen and paper over there." You nodded at the objects you had just used before. It quickly complied, placing the sheet of paper in its lap and holding the pencil. "I'll tell you what to write and when. Until then, don't move your head, alright?"

"Alright."

-

"RK800? Feel any changes?"

"No."

"Good. Write down what I'm telling you, okay? And tell me if I'm going too fast."

It hummed in approval.

"The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog."

It rested the sheet of paper on its knees and wrote down the sentence with inhumanly perfect letters.

The quick brown fox jumps over the laeg==y doZw==.

"Alright, something went wrong with g and z. Let's see how I can fix that." You internally sighed, blinking away the fatigue from your eyes.

"Why dogs again?" The Android asked, still facing away from you. Only its moving jaw and clear voice betrayed that it was talking.

"Hm?"

"Why did you give me two sentences that both have to do with dogs?"

"Coincidence. The first one was random, and this one contains all the letters of the alphabet."

"Oh." The Android parted its lips slightly, as if it were surprised by the information. Silence settled between the both of you as you continued working on its new memory drive. "I've worked somewhere before, haven't I?"

"Yes. You fought bravely on the beach of Omaha, in Normandy, France, on June the 6th." You smiled at the thought. The situation you found yourself in...maybe it was wrong to think so, but it felt strangely similar to sending one of your children to war. And as if that child had just returned. Damaged, sure, but repairable. You were left feeling somewhat...proud. Proud of the fact that you could contribute to something with your job.

You continued your work inside its skull, completely losing track of time. That was, until the machine decided to speak up.

"It's getting rather late. Humans tend to not function well when deprived of sleep, so I'd recommend you get a few hours of rest before continuing your work."

"No need for that, RK800. I'm almost there." To be fair, its model name didn't exactly slide off the tongue, especially not at that time of the day. "Ever been called anything else other than your model name?"

"I have no way of remembering that." Oh, right. Of course it couldn't have. Your mind was playing tricks on you, especially when you were both tired and deadly focused on one specific task.

"Of course. I forgot." You narrowed your eyes at the last wire you needed to connect. Slowly, slowly. There. "I'm done. That should do the trick." You closed its skull shut, readjusting its hair where you had messed it up. 

"Thank you, assistant (l/n)."

"Agh, just say (y/n). Sounds way too formal." You shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose, refraining from yawning. "You're welcome, RK800."

"Would you like me to accompany you home? The probability to encounter danger rises significantly along with the late hour." You knew that well enough for yourself already. It stated a fact. But what else was there to do?

"Y'know what, I'll just crash here." Kamski's small study provided a fairly comfortable couch. That should be enough for one night.

"How do you plan on doing that?"

"By sleeping on the couch. In Kamski's study." 

"Are you sure that's appropriate of you to do?"

"Yes, RK800. I've done it before." It was endearing how it seemed worried for you, but at the same time, it was unnecessary. And maybe slightly annoying? You blamed it on your fatigue.

"Alright. I'll be on standby if you need me."

"Okay. Goodnight, RK800."

"I don't sleep, but goodnight to you too, assist- (y/n)."


	4. Chapter 4

"Assistant? ...Assistant (l/n)?" A soft, slightly raspy, yet audibly pleasing voice whispered. You felt a hand brush the hair out of your face and shake your shoulder lightly. 

"Hmm? Yes...?" You squinted, eyes adjusting to the light of the room. For a moment, you found yourself completely at loss, unable to identify the familiar infrastructure of your room. 

Oh, yeah. You had stayed at the office.

"It's exactly 7 am. I completed all of the tasks I presumed required of you, which includes light cleanups and ventilating the workshop. Most humans have the tendency to eat as soon as they wake up, although I couldn't find any food around to prepare a meal for you. I hope that's not bothersome. I am led to believe that Kamski usually arrives around 8 am. I decided to wake you one hour earlier to provide you with the required time to have breakfast and prepare for the day."

Taken aback by the Android's early morning speech, you shook your head, processing the machine's words all over again before nodding. This was certainly unusual-someone doing all the work for you. But the change was welcome.

"Thank you."

A faint smile played on its lips, led blinking blue. "No need for that, assistant (l/n)."

You stood up from the couch, running a hand through your messy hair to somewhat readjust it. You inspected your dress, noticing the oh-so-obvious folds. Damn, you're going to have to iron those out later.

"You ever been to town?" You asked while adjusting your clothes to make their messy appearance less obvious. There was no specific reason for your question-just small talk. Pr so you told yourself.

"I have no way of knowing." The machine answered. "But from what I can presume, the probability is very low. Why?"

You thought through what you had just said. It was impulsive to even think about bringing the Android to a crowded place, and your reason was...about as bad as it got. Showing the town of Detroit to a machine. Why? You didn't know. Your gut just told you it was the right thing to do.

"No, I..." You brought your hand up to your forehead, pinching your brow. Why not take the Android with you for a walk? You lived ten minutes away from the workshop, and there was a bakery on the way to it, where you could buy breakfast. Elijah didn't have to know. And the RK800 could experience the town for itself, even if it was just for a little while. "Actually, I don't see why not. I don't think Kamski is going to have anything against it if we're careful enough."

The Android looked at you carefully, tilting its head: "The probability of something going wrong is roughly 35%. Are you sure?"

"Yeah. We just need something for you to change into and something to cover your LED and we're good to go." You gave an encouraging smile and began looking through Kamski's study, in search of a hat. You found one which seemed to fit the Android well enough.

You returned to the RK800 and tiptoed to be able to reach its head properly, placing the hat on its head. It messed up his hair in the slightest, causing one tuft of hair to deviate from the perfect hairstyle and hang down its forehead. It looked...good. Better than before. You decided not to adjust it.

But what to do about the clothes? You looked through Kamski's study, opening up every single dresser, looking inside every nook and cranny. You managed to dig up a spare jacket and a spare pair of pants. "And put these on. You can't walk around town with ripped pants and missing a sleeve of your jacket."

It reached for the buttons of its shirt, beginning to unbutton it before sliding it off its shoulders. You got a chance to observe your and Kamski's handiwork on the machine's abdomen and chiseled chest. While it was you that had contributed to its creation, seeing that body in action and not laying on the table was...something else. Certainly not an unwelcome sight, but at the same time- "RK800, what are you doing?!"

"I'm changing, assistant (l/n). As you explained already-"

"No, no, I mean...agh, Christ, alright. Resume whatever you were doing, I'll be in the main room."

You disappeared without another word, leaving the Android with a yellow blinking led and a confused expression behind in Kamski's study.

It stepped outside a few minutes later, attire changed completely.

"Ready to go, RK800?" 

"Yes." It nodded and made its way towards the door.

You inspected the clothes with a quick glance: the pants were a bit too short, revealing its ankles, and the jacket was a bit tight over its shoulders, but it seemed alright other than that. 

"Are you excited for your first trip to town?" You asked while unlocking the door, waiting for it to follow you outside.

"I don't feel emotions, including excitement, however I am interested in adding more information about human lifestyle on my memory drive."

You huffed, raising an eyebrow. "Alright then, if that's what you want to call it."

You locked the door behind you and stepped outside, flashing an encouraging smile in the RK800's direction. 

"Where are we going?"

"Well, first off, I think we should stop by a bakery. I'm starving."

-

The RK800 pushed the door open for you, causing a bell above the door to emit a soft ring!, then followed you inside the bakery. The pastries were obviously scarce, but that wasn't a surprise. A rather chubby, middle-aged man appeared at the counter, practically storming out of the backroom. You searched through your memory for his name and managed to recall it rather quickly.

"Good morning, Jacob." You greeted. "Busy morning?"

The man nodded. "Sure is. What can I get you?"

"Whatever's freshest."

"Our country is at war, (y/n). 'Yesterday morning' is as fresh as it gets." 

You chuckled. "Then I'll take that."

"Here you go." The baker stuffed a pastry you didn't recognize inside a paper bag and handed it to you. "Have a nice da-" His eyes came to a halt on the RK800's face. "Who's the young man?"

If someone found out that you had just taken a war machine out into the city, things could get nasty. Very fast. You'd have to act now. The Android opened its mouth to answer. You quickly cut it off.

"Ah, this, this is...a friend. His name is...Connor."


	5. Chapter 5

The RK800 had luckily been smart enough to know that it should shut up in that fateful moment, which led to things going smoothly.

You had already arrived home and changed into a casual attire: crimson dress reaching just below your knees, topped with a small jacket and a button up shirt.

"I'm good to go, RK800." You announced, finding the android quietly sitting in your living room, just as unnaturally as before.

"According to my calculations, we should be arriving about 5 minutes before eight o'clock."

"That's actually perfect. Let's be on our way." You hurried out of your apartment, followed by the RK800, and turned around to lock the door behind you.

"Why did you call me Connor, assistant?"

That was a good question. "Ah, that...well, I needed to think of a name for you quickly, and I remembered reading an article about names and their meanings, so Connor just came to mind. I'm sorry if you don't like it. I mean, it's not here to stay regardless, since RK800 is what I'm supposed to be calling you."

"I don't have any preferences regarding names, fashion, or pastime activities. I am a machine, assistant."

"Of course. I...I forgot for a second. I don't know." You shrugged your shoulders as you led him outside the stairwell, onto the street.

The Android was silent for about half of the way back to the workshop, until it spoke up unexpectedly:

"What does it mean?" 

"What does what mean?" You blinked in confusion.

"The name you gave me. You said you first read about it in an article about name meanings. What does 'Connor' mean?"

Oh. That was pretty stupid and embarrassing to say out loud. However, under the android's curious gaze, you couldn't resist telling the truth.

"It means dog lover, or sometimes wolf lover." You noticed the android tilt its head in confusion, its LED under the hat blinking yellow for a few solid seconds. "As in...someone that loves dogs, not a dog as a romantic interest."

"Yes, I figured." It readjusted its posture, then resumed following the street back to the workshop, with you trotting slightly behind it. Why the sudden hurry?

"Something wrong, RK-" You reminded yourself to not raise suspicion and retorted to its fake name. "Connor?"

"No." It furrowed its brows, stopping brusquely to think for a second. "But something tells me I have been called names other than RK800 before."

"Your old memories? Do you remember something?" That was- That would have been a scientific breakthrough! An already immensely intelligent machine, able to remember things even after the removal of its memory drive. Kamski would be deligh-

"No." It shook its head, stopping beside the entrance of your workshop. "I still can't access any of them, my old memory drive is missing. You of all people should be aware of that, assistant (l/n)."

"Of course. Sorry." Those 'names' could have been anything, ranging from pet names, to insults from fellow soldiers. You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up.

The android opened the door for you, a smirk playing on the left corner of its lips. "If it makes you feel better, know that I can be called whatever you want to, assistant. Whether that is Connor or RK800. The choice is yours."

-

"Give me your hat and your clothes, I'll take them back to Kamski's study. Put on the older ones."

It complied, handing you Kamski's clothes quicker than humanly possible, already putting on its old uniform.

You hurried into your boss' study, storing the clothes back inside the dressers you had found them in and placed the hat inside the closet, since your brain refused to remember its initial location. Ah well, Kamski surely wasn't that suspicious.

You returned to the main room, glancing at Connor, who was putting on the old uniform, buttoning up he ragged white shirt. And that's when you heard them: steps, fast and decisive, followed by the sound of a key inserted into a lock. Kamski.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You muttered under your breath, hurrying to help the RK800 finish buttoning up the shirt. You started from the top, while it was quickly taking care of the lower buttons.

The door opened with a creak.

"(Y/n), what are you doing with the Android?" Your heart had literally dropped.

"Mister Kamski, good morning, I-"

Elijah was surely smart enough to figure out things at this point, and you were on the safest way of losing your job. What were you going to do? Become a beggar? Sell your body for mone-

"Assistant (l/n) proposed sewing a new uniform for me and wanted to measure my proportions." The RK800 spoke up, softly grabbing your trembling hands and removing them from the buttons of its shirt.

Who knew androids had the ability to lie, expertly at that too?

"There's no need for that. Its proportions should be in my notebook." You had to think of something, and fast.

"I didn't want to snoop around in your things without permission, Elijah."

"Well, now you have permission to take the notebook. Go on."

"Thank you." You smiled, concealing your raging anxiety as well as humanly possible, although you could feel your boss' icy blue eyes staring right through you. Was he on the way of figuring out what you had just been doing minutes ago? It was a huge breach of the secrecy Kamski insisted on, after all.

You made your way inside Elijah's study, fetching the notebook while also trying your best to catch your breath.

"(L/n)!" Elijah called.

Good god, you had almost dropped the notebook straight back onto the table. 

"Yes?"

You hurried back inside the main room, finding Connor sitting on the table just the way he had last night, with the top of his head pried open, Kamski standing behind him, looking inside the Android's brain with a look you couldn't comprehend.

"Good job on its decryption feature. It's working seamlessly." 

You let out a shaky breath of relief.

"Thank you, Elijah."

Kamski nodded, then closed the Android's skull back shut.


	6. Chapter 6

Elijah sat at his desk, multiple sheets of crumbled paper scattered over the floor, with you waiting by his side, ready to offer a second opinion whenever it was desired of you.

You risked a quick glance at the RK800 when Elijah seemed focused on his paperwork. The machine was on standby, eyes peacefully closed, its posture inhumanly straight. Was there a specific reason you kept staring in the direction of said prototype? Not one that you could lay your finger on.

Your boss let out a frustrated, yet soft, sigh, drawing your attention back to him. "The exterior needs to be more sharp, more stern, more dominant. The RK800 failed because..." Kamski stopped for a second, throwing a glance over his shoulder at you, as if you were at fault for what he was about to state. Well, you sort of were, actually: It was, in fact, you that had come up with a face design for the RK800. "Because it was too soft. Too human-like. We lost track of its actual purpose and focused too much on its social integration."

"But that just proves that androids could be used as so much more other than military forces. Why all the secrecy? Industry, office work-" 

"Most humans are involutionary, they have always been. Look at the civillians' reactions at the steam engines back in the day. They were so utterly afraid of machines replacing them that they rioted against it, (y/n)." Elijah interrupted you.

That was the truth, although it hurt deeply. 

"Back to the RK900." Kamski ordered, turning back to his desk. "I'll need you to design a face for it. Use the RK800's facial structure for reference, but give it higher cheekbones. A slight frown, to visually help establish dominance. And do something about its eyes."

"Of course, Elijah." You grabbed the nearest sheet of paper and went to the main room.

"RK800, restart!" Your boss spoke up from his study, loud enough for the Android to hear and comply. It appeared from the room on your left, the storage room. That was where you kept multiple prototypes and older androids. It was a place you somewhat enjoyed visiting: a display of what you had helped in achieving so far.

"Hello, RK800."

"Hello, (y/n)." It gave a quick nod, voice perfectly steady and calm. "How can I be of service?"

"I'll need you to stand still for me, just for a few minutes. I need to get a proper glimpse of your face." You instructed, seating yourself on the table in the middle of the room, legs dangling just a few millimeters above the floor. The android moved to stand in front of you, then got down on one knee. What was it doing? And, most importantly, what were you doing, getting all flustered about it?

"Is this angle fitting?" It asked. 

Oh. That's what it was doing.

"Yeah, it...it's alright." You nodded to yourself and started sketching its face, but with the adjustments Kamski had asked for. It was done in a few minutes, and you were quite happy with the result. Even a simple concept drawing of the RK900 already radiated with sternness and superiority. Just as Elijah had requested. You thought about suggesting a steel blue eye-color for it.

"Now for the side-view." Profiles had never been your forte. The nose was something you often got wrong when it came to concept sketches; it had almost become a ritual by now. "Turn your head to the left, Conn-RK800." 

What were you doing, letting its fake name slip like that?

You noticed Connor smirk with only one corner of its mouth and quickly turn its head to conceal it. Cheeky little thing.

You shook your head in amusement and brought your pen in contact with the paper, drawing a few helping lines to get an idea of where the jawline and cheekbones were supposed to be.

Sadly, things just refused to work out for you. The features were either too soft, or unnatural. Maybe something was wrong with the angle?

"Tilt your head up." You instructed, placing one finger under Connor's chin, guiding him into a better position. That did look easier to follow.

You got back to work, noticing that the new angle seemed to help.

After drawing the basic outline, you began doing some basic shading. It was turning out good, as far as you could tell.

"Can I move, assistant?"

"Yeah, you're free to go." You answered, adjusting a minor mistake before continuing with the shading. It left its initial position without another word, disappearing out of your field of vision.

You failed to hear the steps coming closer to you, at least until you heard the faint whirring of a fan against your left ear.

"Is that a concept drawing?" You refrained from jumping and punching the android in the face out of sheer flight instinct. Its voice was almost dangerously close to your ear.

"Well, yeah...um, sort of." You glanced at its face, meeting its curious chocolate gaze once more. "For a new RK model."

"It looks...stern. Hostile." It stated, eyes scanning over the drawing with an inhuman speed.

"That's the idea." You nodded your head, smirk playing on your lips at the comment forming in your mind. "I thought you didn't have any opinions regarding things?"

Taken aback by the question, it distanced itself from you, reassuming its initial, straight posture. "Of course I don't. I have been provided the ability to identify facial expressions, so I merely stated facts."

"Alright, sure." You teased and hopped off the edge of the table, regaining your composure before returning to Kamski's room, leaving the Android dumbfounded.

"Done already?" Elijah asked as you stepped inside, not bothering to look up from the notes scattered all over his desk. 

"Yes. It's just a vague idea, but I think I managed to come up with a fitting design." You smiled and placed the sheet of paper on the table, sliding it towards Kamski. He remained silent, analyzing the concept drawing with critical eyes. You couldn't help but let a nervous laugh slip. "I mean, hey, even the RK800 himself confirmed that it looks rather imposing." 

"Itself." Kamski corrected, then handed the paper back to you. "You said 'The RK800 himself'."

"Ah, that...I...sorry, it just slipped." You mentally scolded yourself for it.

"The design is good. Do some minor cleanup around the workshop, select a few models to send to Normandy, and you're dismissed for today."

"Right away. Thank you."

Elijah looked up from his notes, soft, knowing smirk tugging on his lips. "You're welcome."


	7. Chapter 7

You closed the door behind yourself carefully, doing your best to not bother your boss any further.

Connor was idly standing beside the window, eyes scanning the chirping birds that skipped from branch to branch. His LED blinked with yellow, then faded into a calm blue. Although it took you quite an amount of mental strength to do it, you ignored Connor and made your way inside the storage room.

A few dozen Androids stood in the room with their arms glued to their sides, eyes closed, in perfectly symmetrical rows. One copy of every single model you and Kamski had created so far. Androids were made for mass production after all, so keeping every single model produced in your small workshop would have created a huge problem. 

Thus, the collaboration between your workshop and multiple warehouses and factories spread all across the country. You and Elijah came up with concepts and poured your time into creating new models before sending the construction information to the factories, for mass production.

You began browsing the multiple standing silhouettes, studying their familiar faces, and weighing out the options in your head. You couldn't afford sending another android as advanced as the RK800 back to the battlefield (although you didn't exactly have one except for the RK800 itself), especially now that the situation of the troops in Normandy was still unknown. In this case, it was quantity over quality.

You selected a PL600, an AC700, and a ST300. You took out your small notebook from your bag and ripped off three small slips of paper, and pinned each one of them to the chest of the models you had selected. On the PL600's note, you wrote 1200, 1050 on the AC700's and 750 on the ST300. Those were the amounts you'd request the crew at the depot to send to France.

A total of 3000 must have been enough, considering that 12000 of the ones you had sent along with Connor hadn't returned and a good percentage weren't reported as damaged either.

You gathered the needed androids in the center of the room, cheerfully humming to yourself. Now all there was left to do was cleaning up, and then you were free to go.

"Are these the models you're planning on sending to Normandy, assistant?"

You jumped at the soft, clear voice, which obviously belonged to Connor.

"Yeah." You nodded your head. "Why?"

"I thought it might be of use to me if I learned about my predecessors."

"Oh, really? Are you having existential questions, Connor?" You snickered to yourself.

"No. I'm afraid I lack abilities in the domain of philosophy, assistant."

"Well, I don't think philosophy could prove as useful on the battlefield, so you get a pass." Connor continued watching you with a slightly dumbfounded look on his face and yellow blinking led. "Alright, let's make a deal. I'll show you the androids under one condition."

"Which is?"

"You help me with the cleanups."

He stopped for a second, weighing out the compromise, then nodded in approval.

You gestured for the Android to follow you, stopping by the nearest PL600.

"Now, this bad boy right here," You placed your hand on the 'sleeping' machine's shoulder. The RK800 analyzed the move with interest, and figured that it might be a gesture to show some form of attachment to it. "It's one of the earliest models. Kamski came up with it a week after hiring me, so I got to make a few minor adjustments on it, but nothing too big. I fixed its voice: made it more ear-pleasing and less machine-like. And I think I made some adjustments on its hairstyle too, although I don't exactly remember what."

Connor nodded and followed you over to the next model. It was slightly shorter than him, but presented similarly dark hair. It had a soft jawline and sharp nose, which Connor assumed had the purpose of making it seem both stern and approachable.

"This is the AC700. It's is not the strongest guy out there, but it can outlast about anyone, well, maybe except for you." You readjusted the machine's suit in the slightest, then glanced at Connor. "It can lose up to 70% of its blood and still function seamlessly. But, it's not the fastest thinker out there, since we decided to decrease its intelligence in order to allow it to use up less energy, and thus, less blood."

"My blood loss limit is-"

"50%, I know." You interrupted the android. It scanned you, LED flashing yellow for a second before returning to blue.

"Yes." He nodded his head, eyebrows slightly raised in what you thought to be...surprise?

Smiling to yourself, you continued with the last model. "The ST300 is fast, strong, and a strategic genius."

Connor let his gaze skip over the android's sharp features and cleanly groomed, almost bald head, as well as its scowl. Not exactly what most humans would identify as aesthetically pleasing, the RK800 concluded.

"Problem is, it can't deal with blood loss that well, and it's completely clueless when it comes to social interactions." You shrugged your shoulders and turned around to face Connor. Eyebrows raised and head tilted, he processed the information before speaking up.

"I must be the only RK800 so far, then?"

"Exactly. These Androids," You gestured to the ones you had just presented to Connor. "are, first of all, made for mass production. You, however, took about four years to design and create. So far, we couldn't find a way to make mass production possible for your model. Normandy was your first mission, although something seemed to have gone wrong."

"An explosion, correct?"

"How did you..."

"I figured it out by the damage on my body." You couldn't hide the fact that you were slightly impressed by his conclusion. The RK800 had been equipped with minor deduction abilities, but...it still came as a surprise. Connor looked away, LED blinking with neon red. Why the sudden change in mood?

"Something wrong?"

"No, I-...It's unpleasant to know that I failed my creators is all." He looked at you with stifled...sadness? Was a machine even capable of that?

"You didn't fail us. Who knows what even happened back there, maybe you heroically saved someone from a bomb or something." You pat Connor's shoulder softly, as he glanced at you with both confusion and sadness. "Besides, you can't change the past. There's no use in overthinking it. Come on."

His LED switched to a thoughtful yellow, then faded back into the usual, calm blue. 

Smiling to yourself, although you had no idea why, you fetched a mop and a feather duster from the bathroom. You then returned to the storage room, finding Connor thoughtfully staring at a PL600.

"Connor, catch!" You chirped threw the feather duster at him, in an attempt to lift the mood. In the last second, he caught the handle in his fist, right above his head. That was unnaturally fast and precise.

"What can I assist you with?"


	8. Chapter 8

The air outside was inky and unusually cold (even for Detroit) as you rushed from the workshop to your home. After completing the cleanup and saying goodbye to both Connor and Elijah, your thoughts had only been screaming one word: Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

The door of your home creaked as you stepped inside. The apartment was small and humble, but it provided everything a young woman could need, including a small library with your favorite books.

Your taste ranged from (favorite genre) to things such as sophisticated poetry or philosophy. Well, about anything to win your interest, really.

You left your keys on a table near the entrance and wanted to immediately throw yourself onto your bed to get some well-deserved rest, until something in the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

Plato's Symposium

-

"RK800, restart!" You called out as you entered the main room of the workshop, locking the door behind yourself.

"Good morning, (y/n). It's exactly six AM. Why are you here one hour earlier than needed?" Connor, face decorated by that adorably dumfounded frown, stepped closer, meeting you in the middle of the room.

"Well, I found this last night, and it reminded me about what you said yesterday. About your knowledge in philosophy. I don't know...ah, this sounds stupid." You stopped pulling out the book from your bag, only then realizing what exactly you were trying to do. Teach a robot philosophy. It sounded outrageously stupid now that you were about to do it.

"A book?" Connor interrupted your thoughts, head tilting in confusion. 

"Yeah, um, yes. Plato's 'Symposium'." Deciding that there was no going back now, you revealed the object, fully pulling it out of your bag, and presented it to Connor. "It's one of the first books I read on philosophy, and it's...mostly understandable. I don't know, I didn't want something too confusing as your first book, but then again, I didn't want you to think I considered you stupid either, so... here."

He took it from you slowly, cold fingers brushing over yours as he inspected the cover, then flipped through the pages.

"You don't have to read it. I mean, I can see why you wouldn't want to, since it probably won't be useful to you on the battlefield or wherever else you're going to be sent off to, but...I just thought...I don't know. I don't know what I thought."

"Thank you, assistant. According to my scan, it should contain roughly 44 thousand words. My reading speed is of about 250 words per minute, thus my estimated time to read this would be about three hours. One night should be more than enough for me to finish it."

Was that a yes to your offer? Probably. You couldn't help but smile at Connor.

"I...okay. Good, thank you."

"For what, assistant?" The Android asked, letting his fingers glide over the cover.

"For deciding to read it. You could have just refused." You shrugged your shoulders.

"I aim to please." Connor winked, then immediately returned to his neutral expression, as if he never had done such an uncharacteristic gesture. Your mouth hung open for a solid second before you shook your head.

"Right. Well, you can go back on standby or read, or whatever you want to. I'll start preparing the workshop."

"I'll start reading, unless you'd like me to help you."

"That's not necessary. You've helped me enough in the past few days. It must've been pretty boring and tiring as it is."

"Androids don't tire out like humans do, and as I have mentioned before, I don't have any opinions regarding activities. Although some..." Connor glanced down at the booklet still clasped in his hands. "do seem more beneficial."

"You decide." You smiled and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly and then walked over to the storage room to begin your cleanup.

Connor weighed out his options, then set a timer of twenty-five minutes in his head. That was the time he planned on dedicating to read the enigma of a book you had just given to him. After that, he decided he'd check to see what else you would need help with. With that in mind, he opened the first page and began reading.

"Aristodemus meeting Socrates in holiday attire, is invited by him to a banquet at the house of Agathon, who had been sacrificing in thanksgiving for his tragic victory on the day previous. But no sooner..."

-

Connor blinked at the ringing noise in his head, then realized he had exceeded the limit of 25 minutes set by himself with 53 seconds. He set the book aside, revising all the information he had saved in his memory drive for the past minutes, then searched for you. He found you in Kamski's study, gathering scattered papers into a neat pile.

"Well, Connor?" You asked, tapping the stack of paper against the table twice to even out the individual sheets. " What could you make of it? The book, I mean...It must have been pretty confusing. You can stop reading if you don't like it." You looked down at the tips of your shoes, beginning to doubt your already questionable choices once again.

"Can I ask you a personal question, assistant?"

"By all means."

"Why does this book resonate with you? It's centered around love. Does that particular feeling fascinate you, or did you want to research it?"

Difficult question.

"None of those. Sometimes, Connor..." You tapped your cheek in thought. "Sometimes it's just intriguing to ask yourself things and try to find the answer. And this book is about as honest as it gets when answering some of them, I think."

"Humans do have a tendency to become more bold and sincere when ingesting alcohol. I would presume that this is the case in this book as well."

"Well, it's about eleven Greek philosophers getting drunk on wine and discussing the meaning of love, so, yeah, basically. Which speech did you like the most so far?"

Connor's LED switched to that warm, thoughtful yellow once again, processing the information he had saved on his memory drive in the past 27 minutes. "Certainly not Aristophanes. The idea of two humans being physically glued to each-other's backs during primal times is absolutely absurd, along with the reasoning for their separation. Moving like that would be nearly impossible, not to mention the unpracticality of it when performing daily tasks such as cleaning or eating. Humans as a species would have died long ago due to natural selection, if that would have been the case."

"So not Aristophanes." You chuckled to yourself. "Anyone else you disliked?"

"Not so far. Pausanias seems most reasonable."

"Why do you think that?"

"He stated that love implies honoring one's partner's intelligence and wisdom. I think...no, I..." Connor's led switched to red for a second before he corrected himself. "My analysis brought me to the conclusion that he is the most reasonable out of the all the philosophers presented in this book so far."

"Hmm." You furrowed your brows in thought, however before you could even analyze the Android's words, Connor spoke up.

"(Y/n)? Do you disagree?" 

Was he...looking for approval from you? No, that couldn't be. He- No, it, Connor, was a machine. It shouldn't have desire for approval, or anything of the sort. And yet you found yourself smiling encouragingly to the RK800: "No, I definitely agree with you so far. But, if you want to, I'll let you guess which one of them my favorite philosopher is once you finish it."

"That would be intriguing." Connor nodded and stored the book behind a shelf, then turned back around to you. "Now, how may I be of service?"


	9. Chapter 9

"Good morning, mister Kamski." You greeted, waiting by the door as soon as he stepped in.

"Indeed, a good Friday morning." He smiled back to you and locked the entrance behind himself. You heard the rustling of paper before Elijah pulled out a newspaper from behind his back. "Here, (y/n). Finally some good news after all the casualties in Omaha."

Almost greedily, you took it from him, curious eyes scanning over the front page's gigantic headline. 

 

"Yes!" You grinned widely, clutching the sheet of paper to your chest and squealing in an almost puerile manner. Your happiness ended far too soon, however, as you were reminded of a man you cared about deeply. "Oh, I nearly forgot about Brennan! Does it say anything about casualties? In general?"

Connor wordlessly watched, feeling his abdominal area clench in displeasure at the mention of a male name sliding off your tongue with such emotion...such worry. He didn't know what he was feeling, or if it wasn't just an inconvenient glitch, but he was certain he disliked it. Maybe he'd have to ask Kamski to have a look at his system later.

Elijah frowned. "Not that I remember the mention of casualties, no."

You readjusted the paper to allow yourself to scan over it with your eyes, however to no avail.

Firm, rhythmical steps clattered softly against the wooden floor as Connor approached you. "Allow me, assistant."

The RK800 positioned himself behind you, glancing at the piece of paper over your shoulder, which allowed him a clear view over it. His eyes darted from left to right with inhumane speed as his breath lightly fanned your neck. It caused a soft chill to run down your spine. "No, the word casualties hasn't been specified in this text."

"Okay, thank you, C-RK800. Guess I'll just write him a letter, then."

"If you don't mind me asking, assistant, who is 'Brennan'?" Connor desperately tried to remain professional, but it almost seemed like his voice and demeanor had their own mind. When saying that foreign, almost cursed name, his tone was sharp and unforgiving.

"My older brother. He's in Normandy right now, although he has been devised to the Utah beach, unlike you." You smiled sympathetically at the machine.

Oh. Those words, as if they were magical, had caused Connor's synthetic muscles to immediately relax and the tension fade from his stomach. 

"Well then. Write the letter now and make it quick. And after that..." Kamski's eyes vigilantly scanned the room, stopping on Connor's face. "After that, tailor some clothes for the RK800. It's still walking around in the torn clothes it arrived in. Really destroys the calm, orderly ambience of this place."

"Of course."

Kamski disappeared inside his study, although the faint rustling of paper and moving of objects was audible. Meanwhile, you managed to find a piece of paper and to sit down at the nearest table you could find, already writing away.

Deciding it would be wisest to just shut down, Connor did exactly that, body and mind slipping into a slumber-like state.

-

"Rk800, restart!" Connor's eyes fluttered open at the order, the first thing he had caught a glimpse of being none other than you. Holding a pile of different fabrics and materials in one hand, and locking the door behind yourself with the other, you stumbled inside the workshop.

Time: 11:26 am

"Welcome back, assistant." Connor showed one of his gentle smiles as a greeting. "How may I be of service?"

"Ah, hold these for a bit, would you?" You nodded at the materials in your arms. He rushed to take them from you, then waited patiently as you locked the door. "Sorry it took me so long, but I wanted to find quality materials for your suit. Sounds easy in theory, but...oh well, what can you do. The perks of living in a country at war, I guess."

"That's not your fault, (y/n)."

"I know." You shrugged your shoulders and guided Connor to the nearest table, gesturing for him to drop the materials on the table. 

The entrance to Kamski's study opened as the man peeked over at you. "Back already?"

"Yep!"

"I suggest you let the Android help you tailor the suit to speed up the process." Elijah added, and although his wording may have caused his sentence to sound like friendly advice, his tone allowed no disagreement on your side.

"Of course. Good idea." You smiled and nodded your head as your boss left, closing the door behind himself.

"Well, then, RK800, ready to learn how to sew?"

"My brain is equipped with a data processor which can analyze visual information in real time and allow me to imitate observed human movements almost perfectly, so yes. Technically speaking, I'm always ready to learn."

"Perfect. Watch and...imitate my movements, then. I'll show you what to do and where."

-

"Almost forgot to ask, did you finish the book?" You asked, brows furrowed and eyes fixated on the needle you pushed through the material.

"Yes."

"And? Anyone manage to surpass Pausanias?The philosopher you said you agreed with most, I mean." 

"I didn't forget who Pausanias is. I have everything I have read so far stored safely on my memory drive. And no. No one has. About me guessing your favorite philosopher, however, I assume it's-" 

The door leading to Kamski's study flew open as the man hurried outside.

"(Y/n), I've got to leave." He explained, hastily putting on his thin overcoat, preparing to step into the chilly Detroit night. Almost mechanicaly, you stood up to accompany him when he left. Connor only remined seated at the table. "I have an important meeting. Have a pleasant evening."

"You too, mister Kamski." You closed the door behind him as he left, then rested your shoulder against it, puffing air into your cheeks. That was...unexpected.

"Something wrong, (y/n)?" Connor asked, pushing his chair back and walking over to you to close the huge amount of space created between the two of you.

"No, no, I...I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Kamski's always attending some sort of meetings or whatever. Meanwhile, I go home to my boring apartment every single night. I know I shouldn't be complaining, because he's the boss and I'm the assistant, but...I'm a human too, you know. I wanna have some fun too, go out, have a few drinks, I don't know. Maybe spice up my daily routine. Agh, sorry about my rambling. I can see why you wouldn't understand what I'm talking about. Let's just get back to work."

An idea formed in Connor's mind. It was stupid, dangerous, but it could potentially contribute to making you happier. "What if we finish my suit so I can wear something, and then I can accompany you to town so you can enjoy yourself?"

"You...you'd do that with- for me?"

"I don't see why not." 

He could clearly see why not. He just chose to ignore it.


	10. Chapter 10

"You look dashing." You smiled as Connor exited the storage room, wearing the suit the two of you had tailored. His perfectly symmetrical sewing style blended in perfectly with your professional, experienced one, creating a truly unique clothing article. The dark blue suit hugged his frame as if it were his second skin, white shirt buttoned all the way to the top, collar slightly disheveled. Now, all that he was missing was a tie and a hat.

"Well, this suit is in perfect accordance to societal standards. That is very likely the reason why you think so." The Android explained, a goofy, yet cheeky smile gracing his features. 

"Or just that we did great work on it. You're a quick learner." You reciprocated the smirk and reached to adjust his collar. Connor watched your hand, a slight tingling on his neck where your fingers had brushed over the synthetic skin. He then let his eyes travel up your arm, to your shoulder, neck, and finally to your frowning face. You were still in working attire. "We just need to get to my apartment really quick so that I can change too, and we're good to go."

You trotted to the exit, nodding your head for Connor to follow you. He complied quickly, stealing one of Elijah's hats from the hanger by the entrance and accompanying you out into the street.

-

The Android sat unnaturally on the sofa in your living room, waiting for you to get ready. Restless as he was, Connor began looking around, scanning the room with inhuman speed. A few picture frames were set up on a nearby table, along with multiple tools, some needed for sewing and some required for programming and robotics. Your hobbies did seem rather branched out, Connor had to admit.

Rising from his seat, already bored, he went to inspect the photos on the table, one with two teens and a child catching his eye. One of them, the shortest and presumably youngest, was obviously you. You had round, child-like features in said picture, but it was undoubtedly you. 

Behind you, with one hand buried in your hair to mess it up, stood a teen with (h/c) hair and a cheeky grin. That must have been Brennan. The one on the far right was a tad taller than both you and your brother, and obviously in his teens as well. Connor's face recognition software approximated a difference of about five years between you and the two boys. The tallest boy's eyes were of light color, presumably grey or blue, and were dominated by sternness and wit. The Android could have sworn it was Kamski.

Connor heard subtle, hurried steps come from your room, so he turned away from the table, towards the door that slowly opened.

"What do you think?" You stepped inside the room he was in did a quick twirl in front of him to show off your simple, classic black dress that reached just above your knees. "Haven't worn it in like a year or so."

"I believe putting on a thin jacket as well would be smart." The Android said, mentally looking at his built in thermometer. 18 degrees Celsius. Sure, it was almost the middle of June, but nights could still get rather chilly. Better safe than sorry.

He tilted his head in confusion when he noticed you frown. Were you insulted by the piece of advice he had just given? No, that couldn't be it...

"I thought robots didn't have built-in douchebag behavior." 

Douchebag? As far as Connor could tell, he hadn't done anything to come off as that. 

"Come on, don't just dodge the question like that." You added.

Oh.

"Well, as far as my visual analysis tells me, yes. I mean- yes, you...you look aesthetically pleasing." 

"See? Wasn't that hard." You chuckled at his still confused expression. "Come here."

Connor complied in an almost shaky manner, hurrying to stand in front of you. He had no idea why he was acting up like that, but the right time to address it wasn't exactly that moment.

"I remembered you needed a tie, so I thought you could borrow one of Brennan's." You adjusted it around his neck, carefully fixing his collar as well, then tied the accessory into a neat, almost perfect knot. You smiled to yourself in satisfaction, resting your hands on Connor's chest. You slid them downwards in a firm, smooth motion to straighten out his jacket.

The Android swallowed a mouthful of synthetic saliva, ignoring the soft, warm electric currents going through him wherever your hands came in contact with his skin. 

"Good enough. Let's be on our way." You concluded.

You nodded to the exit and waited for Connor to step outside, then followed him out onto the dark street. He waited patiently for you to lock the door, then asked: "Where are we headed?"

"Well, there's this place I used to visit a lot with Brennan and his friends back in the day. They served those amazing drinks that tasted deliciously and knocked you out in an instant!" You explained, subconsciously licking your upper lip.

Connor couldn't help but stare at you for a millisecond, then shake his head. "I don't think that would be a good idea. The alcohol, I mean."

"Don't worry, I won't get drunk and then make you take care of me. Or at least I don't intend to."

You linked your arm with his as if he were an old friend, taking the lead down the street confidently.

"That's good to know." Connor stumbled beside you, expression confused, yet mostly neutral, the LED on his temple blinked yellow. 

You walked in silence for a while, watching the sun go down and the streetlights flicker to life. The air seemed thinner and lighter, along with the fading warmth of the summer day.

"Hah, this feels nice." You closed your eyes and sighed in contentment, offering Connor a gentle smile as you came to a slow halt in front of a bar. 

Connor tilted his head, but didn't say anything.

"Going out like this with someone." You explained, noticing his lack of words. "Haven't done this ever since Brennan enrolled."

"When was that?"

"Two years ago, I think. Maybe even a little more. Ah well, it wasn't a part of my life I particularly enjoy looking back to anyways. Things just went downhill after he left, I guess."

Connor could barely refrain himself from asking about the picture he had seen in your house, with Kamski and your brother. 

"Something wrong?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and leaning closer to Connor to be able to get a proper look on his frowning face.

"No!" The crease between his brows deepened, before he took a deep breath. "I- No. Sorry."

"It's fine. You just looked like something was off. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

That was the dilemma, though. He really wanted to ask you about the picture. But in the end, he decided not to.

"Let's go inside."


	11. Chapter 11

The air was thick with the smoke of cigars and alcohol of all kinds, voices buzzing along to the rhythm of groovy jazz music. Connor couldn't quite understand why you felt at ease in such a place, but then again, humans in general were rather enigmatic.

"A gin fizz for me." You smiled at the bartender, sliding a 5 dollar bill across the perfectly polished table. 

"And for the young man?" He nodded at Connor.

"I don't drink, thanks."

The bartender's eyes flashed with amusement and a tinge of mockery before he nodded and got to work. Connor could make no sense of his reaction.

"Do you think he was insulted because I refused to order a beverage?" The Android asked as soon as the man was out of earshot.

You frowned to yourself. The male ego would certainly be something fairly difficult to explain to a machine, but then again, you could try.

"Some men like to think that...drinking makes them tougher. In a way. I don't know, doesn't make much sense to me either." You shrugged your shoulders, mentally cringing at your poor choice of words. Under the hat you had once again borrowed from Kamski's office, you noticed the android's led blink yellow.

"Alcohol tolerance depends heavily on genetics, body size, diet, and activity of alcohol dehydrogenases." He answered, eyes focused on the bartender. "But not on 'toughness' or anything of the sort."

"Tell that to these guys." You chuckled and gestured widely to the entire bar.

Connor opened his mouth, sucking a big portion of air into his lungs.

"No, no, I- I'm kidding! Don't do that." You immediately added, a moment before certain disaster would have taken place. "You'll start a bar fight or something."

Connor's brows furrowed in confusion, but he complied and stayed silent.

"Your drink." The bartender interrupted, sliding the glass over to you. Not waiting any further, you took a sip, letting the burningly hot, slightly fruity liquid wash down your throat. It left your tongue tingling and mind spinning-a feeling you hadn't exactly missed, but enjoyed regardlessly.

Your gaze traveled back to Connor, who was watching the dance floor with an indecipherable expression, LED under his hat blinking yellow, red for a second, then yellow again.

"Something wrong?" You spoke up, taking another sip of your gin.

"No, assistant. Can I...ask you a personal question?"

Always so formal. You smiled to yourself at the machine's behavior, then nodded. "I'm all ears."

"While I was waiting for you, at your house, I saw a picture of you, someone I presume to be your brother, and..." The Android stopped his sentence, realizing that his behavior may have come off as intrusive, maybe even borderline stalker-esque. He shouldn't have asked.

"And Elijah Kamski. Yeah, you got that right, it was him."

A breath of relief Connor hadn't even noticed he was holding in escaped his lungs.

"So you were childhood friends?"

"Hah, no." You shook your head, stifling your amused laughter at barely the thought of it. "Well, he is Brennan's best friend, but as for me and Kamski...Childhood 'friends' is a terrible way to describe our relationship. 'Acquaintances' is more fitting if y'ask me."

"Explain."

"Well, first of all, the age gap. I was ten in that picture, while Brennan and Elijah were both fifteen. Elijah didn't really care much about me-I was just that little girl that followed her old brother around everywhere he went, or the girl that kept the score between the two of them when they played football. You get the idea."

Connor nodded. 

You traced your fingertips over the edge of the glass, then grasped it firmly and brought it up to your lips, taking another sip.

"Alright, my turn to ask questions. You were staring at the dance floor and your LED blinked red for a second. Why?"

Some of Connor's blue blood gathered in his cheeks, pricking hotly under his skin. Out of instinct, the Android wanted to cover up his face, however refrained from doing so, hoping that the dim light would provide enough cover for his unexpected reaction.

"I analyzed all the couples I could identify on the dance floor in an attempt to be able to recreate their movements. However it appears that I have encountered an error while doing so."

"Really? But why?"

"My database doesn't allow me to imitate actions that could not potentially turn out useful when it battle, or when preparing for it."

You did remember Elijah saying about implementing something of that sort to prevent overwriting the memory drive with useless information. At that time, you considered it to be genius, but now, now it was sad to know that even if Connor would have wanted to, it was practically prohibited for him to become...human. Well, unless...

"You'll just have to learn it the human way, then."

The Android frowned, head tilted perplexedly. "What would that imply?"

"I can teach you some basic stuff if you want. But it's gonna take practice for you to master it."

What was there to lose?

"I could try." Connor concluded, glancing at you for approval. You closed your eyes, grabbed a firm hold of your drink and tossed it all down your throat in one swift motion. In case things turned out awkwardly, a bit of liquid courage could go a long way.

"Come on then." You set the glass down and stepped away from the bar, gesturing for Connor to follow you.

He trotted behind you almost like a lost puppy, brusquely stopping when you did so too. You had chosen a more private spot, at the side of the dance floor, away from the tumult happening in the middle of it.

"Give me your right hand." You instructed. Connor reluctantly extended it between the two of you as you intertwined your fingers with his, then guided it to the small of your back. "Keep it like this, on my back. If you move your hand up too high, then it's just going to look awkward. And if you let it hang too low, well...then you're a pervert." You chuckled in amusement at his flabbergasted expression. You could feel him subtly fiddle with the material of your dress in...restlessness? Anxiety, maybe?

"I understand."

"Good." A soft, groovy tune started playing in the background as you clasped your right hand in his left and rested the other on his shoulder. "Usually the male is supposed to lead, but you don't know the steps yet, so...follow my lead."

You made a slow step to your left, which Connor followed with ease. He was able to fully anticipate your every move after a minute or so of dancing, although his shoulders were still as tense as ever underneath your palm. You brushed your thumb over the material of his suit.

"You're doing great, Connor. Relax." 

He swallowed a mouthful of synthetic saliva, LED spreading yellow light over the inside of the borrowed hat. His Thirium pump felt unbearably hot, on the verge of combustion, rhythmical beats now accelerated and chaotic.

The next step he took was rather miscalculated, since the tip of his shoe was millimeters away from colliding with your foot.

He was anything but relaxed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written while listening to “In the mood” by Glenn Miller. https://youtu.be/_CI-0E_jses

Connor continued following your movements stiffly for the next minute, until the next tune began.

A big, goofy grin spread across your face as you couldn't help but recognize the jazzy, playful nature of the song. Every eerie thought seemed to have dissolved into thin air as you let go of Connor's right hand, slinging it around his neck.

The android was brought into a gentle, loose embrace, your soft chuckle ringing in his left ear as you dipped your head into the crook of his neck.

"Oh man, I love this one!" You squeaked in delight, to which Connor couldn't help but smile as well. "I mean, if this isn't the jazziest song there is, I don't know what is. Just listen to it!"

Connor frowned in concentration, LED blinking yellow as he thought.

"Well, it certainly corresponds to the term humans call 'groovy'." Connor explained. "It contains repeated arpeggios that are rhythmically displaced, played on the saxophone, along wi-"

"No, that's not...what I meant." You explained while guiding both of his hands to rest on your waist. "Don't analyze it or anything. Just listen. Concentrate on how it makes you...feel."

The Android's brows furrowed in confusion before he then fixated the floor in focus.

"Here, let me help." You whispered, barely loud enough for Connor to hear. From his neck, you brought both your hands to cup his face, stroking over his cheeks with your thumb. The cold skin flushed a soft blue, gradually warming up. "Close your eyes, Connor."

The led under his hat blinked yellow, then blue. In a barely visible motion, his hips began swaying to the rhythm, the move gradually going through his entire body. It was about as natural as you had seen him move until now, which caused you to smile.

"There you go! See, it's fun, right?" You nodded your head from side to side as his eyes fluttered open. Connor watched you with both amusement and wonder. 

"I think...I think I can see why humans do this." 

You smiled at him playfully, reaching to take off his hat and put it on yourself. You then took his right hand, held it above your head and performed a small spin. The Android's chocolate puppy eyes, which seemed pitch black in the bar's dim light, were glued on your face. You reassumed your old position after that, with both of your arms wrapped around his neck, and his palms pressing against the small of your back.

"How come you know about music?" You asked. "You said something about arpeggios."

"I have basic knowledge about it since it is necessary for me to partake in military music as a soldier." Connor explained once again, then took your hand, raising it above your head. "Can you do that again? The pirouette?"

You complied, chuckling to yourself, then turned back around to face him. Your frame was pressed against his, you could clearly feel the Thirium pump drum against your chest quickly and unsteadily. Was Connor nervous? Could he even do that? "Why?"

"What why?" He asked, looking down at you, something in his chest fluttering at the sight before him. Connor was fully aware that it wasn't normal for a machine; but he had the urge to save this moment in his memory, every single part of it-your face, warm, gentle and loving and pressed against his neck in a way he couldn't describe, the smell of fruity alcohol mixed with perfume, your hair tickling his jawline, your chuckle in his ear. He hadn't ever felt anything of the sort before, but Connor was certain that this was what humans called bliss.

"Why did you ask me to do it again? The pirouette."

"You seemed to enjoy it." Connor answered. "And I-"

"Yo, what the fuck is up with that blinky thing on that guy's forehead?" A voice, loud, unfamiliar and thundering asked over the music.

Fuck. 

Entire body rushing with hot adrenaline, you let go of the Android, quickly taking off the hat on your head and pressed it back onto Connor's. Without waiting any further, you grasped his sleeve and ran, pushing people aside, murmurs coming from left and right. Not good. If Kamski found out, this would be the moment that ultimately marked the end of your career!

You stormed out of the bar, Connor following closely behind. As soon as you were outside and started pulling the Android in the direction of your house, he stopped.

"Connor, what-"

"I'm calculating a different route."

The bar's doors flew open, two men and a woman storming outside.

"There's no time for-"

"I'm done. Follow me."

"We should just follow the path we already know!"

"It's too simple. They won't lose track of us. Do you trust me, (y/n)?"

You clenched your hands into fists, flinching when you realized how close your three followers were getting. "Alright, fine! You better know what you're doing."

He nodded, then firmly wrapped his fingers around your wrist, dragging you after him. You struggled to keep up, since Connor was both faster and more resilient, however he slowed down his steps at every sharp turn the both of you took, as if to give you small breaks. He lead you down narrow, intertwined alleys, causing you to completely lose track of your location within just a few minutes, just like the three people following you. Connor slowed down his steps entirely after he was certain you had shaken them off, turning around to look at you. You were red-faced and slightly heaving.

"Sorry about that. While did I struggle to maintain a moderate speed for you to be able to keep up, the line between that and getting caught was thin. I apologize if I tired you out."

"No, that's...hah, it's fine. I should be the one saying sorry. If I hadn't been dumb enough to take off your hat and-"

"Humans often think irrationally when they're overwhelmed by emotions. It wasn't your fault." The Android answered, then resumed his path with confident steps. "Come on, we're 800 meters away from your home."

"Sorry." You followed him, answering with a soft, apologetic tone. "And thank you."

"There is no need for that. I simply did what was required to get us out of trouble." The Android explained. "I will accompany you home and then go back to the workshop. I know the way."

"Actually, would...would you like to stay over? It's probably wiser to go in the morning. You know, better safe than sorry."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written while listening to “In the mood” by Glenn Miller. Feel free to get in the mood as well (ba dum tss):  
>  https://youtu.be/_CI-0E_jses

You brought the house key up to the lock, struggling to stuff it inside. However, that was practically impossible at that moment: with your sight occasionally blurring, and fingers as if they were made of gelatin.

"Do you need help, assistant?"

"Help in opening a door?" You said to yourself, then bursted out in giggles. You had no idea what exactly was amusing about that, but you were certain that it had you clutching your stomach at the force of your laugh after a few seconds. 

"The alcohol is taking its toll on your body, (y/n). Allow me." Connor set a hand on your shoulder, moving you away gently to allow him full access over the lock. The entrance creaked open a few seconds later. "After you." 

The Android gestured for you to enter, which you did, still giggling and wobbly-stepped. You mumbled something indecipherable, leaning against a wall, although you had slightly miscalculated the distance and caused yourself to stumble backwards into it.

"Let's get you to your room." Connor answered to your words, completely aware that a drunken speech is usually miscalculated at best. He grasped your arm to offer you support, then took you to what he assumed was your dormitory. It was the room you had changed in, after all, so that should have been it.

At the sight of your bed, you immediately let yourself fall head-first onto it, burying your face in your pillows.

"I will be in your living room if you need me." The Android added, deciding it were wise to leave you by yourself for the moment.

"No." 

"I'm sorry?" He tilted his head, returning to the side of the bed.

"Stay." You answered, voice muffled by the pillows. "With me."

Connor was more than glad you couldn't catch a glimpse of his slightly flustered expression as he pulled up a chair, positioning it beside your bed.

The Android sat down, watching you as you turned on your side to face him. A goofy, dreamy smile played on your lips.

"Thank you. It's nice to not be alone in the house for once." You said, eyes glistening with both fatigue and happiness.

"You are very welcome."

"Always so formaaaaal..." You mumbled to yourself, drawing out the vocals, voice tinged with amusement. "It's literally just me and you in my bedroom. You can stop talking like that."

As far as Connor could tell, everything he was doing at that moment was an immense breach of privacy.

"I'm afraid it's not in my program." Connor answered. "But I could try-"

"You don't have to change for me. You're already much more than...than what I expected." You answered, reaching to gently stroke the back of his hand.

Completely taken aback by the change of mood, Connor stared at your face in confusion. Human unpredictability seemed...heightened when you were tipsy.

Much more than you had expected? What exactly had you expected? Your hand was comfortably warm, and the Android had to refrain from reciprocating your caress. Connor could make no sense of your statement, and decided to take advantage of your dizzy, yet brutally honest state of mind and asked.

"Can you explain that further?"

"Well, I..." You furrowed your brows. "When you first came in, all ripped apart like that, it was...I don't know. Hard to imagine that something looking like that was ever gonna work again." 

He nodded understandingly, encouraging you to explain further. Like a child, you busied yourself by playing with his hand, gluing your palms together and comparing sizes as you talked. Connor found it rather...endearing to look at.

"I've tested you a lot, back in the days when you were in development. Your social integration feature was especially pesky-you've always been awkward. Glad to know that hasn't changed." You chuckled, looking up from your and Connor's hands, up at his face. "It's just that...back in the day, I don't...hmm. I just saw you as a plastic shell imitating human behavior." You traced your fingertips over his knuckles. Something was so oddly electrifying and intimate about it; it made Connor's insides feel as if his processors had gone haywire, exploding with warmth. "But when you returned from the battlefield, even though you didn't remember anything...something was different. I had-I still have no idea what. Maybe you've changed by yourself, maybe someone changed you...what does it matter? All I know is that you feel alive. Human." You whispered the last word solemnly.

Connor was at loss of words, able to do nothing but stare at you in wonder as you let go of his hand and cuddled into your blanket.

He hadn't thought about it, not from your perspective. It wasn't in his programming to be curious, but then again, nothing he had done in the past days was in his programming. Connor wanted to know more about his past, despite being fully aware that it was out of reach, for both you and himself.

"Do you think I could ever remember?"

"Ever remember what?" You answered, groggily and half asleep.

"If I could ever remember what changed me."

"Hm, I don't think that would be possible. But hey, we can hope, right?"

"Right."

Silence settled between the two of you, accompanied by a symphony of rhythmical breaths and Connor's whirring fans.

"Y'know what's strange?"

"What is, assistant?"

You bursted into puerile laughter. "Sorry, I- You said 'ass'. I thought it was funny."

Brows furrowed, Connor mentally replayed the last few sentences he had spoken, unable to identify said word.

"Well, I mean, you said 'ass'-istant, but still. Kinda funny."

You were definitely drunk. Huffing in amusement, Connor shook his head, biting his lip to refrain from laughing at something this utterly childish.

"I did it!" You realized, bringing your hands up to your face in excitement. "I actually made you laugh!"

"No, you...I wasn't-..." Connor looked away, regaining his composure, then looked back at you. "You specified noticing something strange. What was that?"

"Oh, yeah." You nodded your head, stopping to yawn, then continued. "When you first came in, your memory drive had been ripped out. As in, someone had intentionally taken out only the drive, and left everything else intact. Dunno, thought it was weird. Elijah was an ass to me and didn't even wanna talk about it."

Connor couldn't deny that what you had just told him did seem, in fact, highly suspicious.

However he didn't dare say another word upon noticing that you were already fast asleep, off to your own world.


	14. Chapter 14

You awoke to the enchanting smell of cooked eggs and sound of subtle sizzling. Kicking the blanket away and rising to your feet, you stumbled into the kitchen, where you found Connor facing the stove and stirring around in a pan.

You smiled softly at the sight before being perturbed by the sound of rustling paper and something sliding under your front door. A letter.

You picked it up quickly, ripping the envelope open in excitement, heart hammering against your chest. About time Brennan wrote back!

Dear (y/n) (l/n),

Our thoughts and prayers are with Major Brennan (l/n)'s family, and the families of our soldiers who were lost in the tragic events that took place in Normandy. These soldiers were professionals, committed to the mission. It is their service and sacrifice that define us as an Army.

Our priority right now is to take care of the families, ensuring they have all the resources they need during this difficult time.

We remain committed to our mission in Normandy and will continue to work with our Allied partners to ensure the safety and security of all coalition soldiers and civilians.

The paper contained no trace of Brennan's handwriting, instead, stencil letters of a writing machine. A sensation similar to receiving a sucker punch right in the stomach-you couldn't breathe, you couldn't think, hell, you couldn't even cry.

Brennan was dead.

You threw the letter onto the nearest table, clutching your dress in a disorderly fashion while stumbling towards the kitchen.

Your brother was dead.

"Good morning, (y/n). Since your last meal was yesterday's lunch, and because you might be suffering of a hangover, I thought you could use a hearty breakfast. Have a seat, I'm almost done." The Android smiled sincerely, moving the pan back and forth as he talked to avoid burning the food. He didn't seem to notice your perturbed expression just yet.

Connor watched you with sight confusion as you sat down at the kitchen table, staring at virtually nothing.

Your brother had died, and he was never coming back.

"I've prepared scrambled eggs and bacon." The Android added. "I hope that suits your taste."

"Yeah." You nodded emptily, standing up and taking out two plates.

"What for?" Connor asked.

"What for what?" You raised an eyebrow in confusion, staring at Connor.

"Why are you taking out two plates? You know I don't eat."

"Oh, right, I...I don't know. I forgot for a second." It was almost embarrassing to think that you had played an important role in the Android's creation and had forgotten his habits at said moment. You had almost forgotten he was an Android.

"It's alright." He took the plates from you, put one back, placed one on the table, then scooped the food onto it. "Have a seat."

In spite of your stomach feeing unpleasantly full, you pulled up a chair for yourself and sat down, mind still going haywire with the news. Your brother had died, and you weren't even able to be there for him. To give him one last hug, to tell him everything was going to be alright, to feel him kiss your forehead the way he always did when he was be leaving. None of that was every going to happen again.

Fucking Nazis.

The eggs were scrambled to perfection, and of a healthy, vivid yellow. The consistency also left nothing to complain about, except for the taste. Slightly under-salted. 

As if he had read your mind, Connor was holding said ingredient, offering it to you. "I didn't know how salty you liked your food, so I decided to not put in any at all. I hope you don't mind."

He really did think of everything. Just like Brennan used to.

"Thank you."

Connor sat down across from you, fixating you with a satisfied, maybe even proud gaze. Suddenly, his LED switched to red, perturbed.

"I need to talk to you about something you told me last night."

"Connor, I don't think right now would...I..."

"We cannot afford avoiding this subject. It's about Kamski. I wanted to ask further last night, but I figured that it may be smarter to talk about it when you were well rested and sober. Would you prefer me to give you headache medication before we talk? You seem rather absent."

"No, that's fine. I...didn't drink that much last night anyways." You forced the best fake smile you could muster onto your face. Connor wouldn't understand what you were dealing with. Of course he wouldn't. It was unnecessary to burden him with your problems.

The Android nodded and leaned back in his chair, LED blinking a thoughtful yellow. "Last night, you told me that when I first arrived at the workshop, you noticed that my memory drive hadn't been damaged by an explosion, unlike the rest of my body. You addressed said detail with your boss, however Kamski seemed uncooperative with his responses."

"Yeah." You nodded your head, looking up from the food. You were about halfway done with the portion of scrambled eggs, although the pit in your stomach was there, as empty and aching as it could get. "That was the course of things."

"Can you tell me anything else you noticed to be suspicious about Kamski's behavior? I think it may be smart to investigate further."

Elijah. Elijah was all that you had left when it came to family. You'd have to tell him about Brennan, about his best friend's death. He would-no, he was going to understand what you were going through. He would feel the same.

"Alright, Connor, listen. I know Elijah. Sure, not as well as my brother used to," The word 'brother' was heavy, insufferably heavy to even say, much less hear. "But I know him well enough to be sure that it would never be his intention to harm me. He's a man of his word, and he's made a promise." You answered, coming off as a bit more defensive than you would have wanted to.

"You are acting irrationally. Whatever he is hiding could be putting your life in danger and you wouldn't even know it until the last minute."

How dare he? How dare Connor not only question the closest thing you still had left to family, but doubt his own creator? 

"I trust Elijah with my life. I couldn't expect a machine to understand that. All you- no, all every single Android thinks about is numbers. Probabilities, chances, percentages. That's exactly how you were programmed. I don't know why I thought you'd-" You pushed your chair back, making your way out of the kitchen. You stopped at the door, not bothering to look Connor in the eyes and spoke: "Thank you for the meal, RK800. You are free to return to the workshop."

Of course Connor wouldn't understand the concept of death. Even when he had been obliterated almost completely, you and Elijah had fixed him as good as new. But there was no such thing for humans. For Brennan. And that's something the RK800 wouldn't have understood.

The Android remained in the kitchen, dumbfounded and confused. Something about hearing his model name slide off your tongue so soullessly, sharply, left a pit in his stomach as a heavy ache flooded his chest. He replayed your entire dialogue in his head again, struggling to figure out where exactly he had made you angry. There was nothing. He had been perfectly rational and diplomatic, and yet...

He heard you shut the bedroom door behind yourself.

Realizing that there was nothing else he could do, Connor cleaned up the plates and other utensils he had dirtied in the cooking process, then started leaving.

Until something white, carelessly thrown on the small table right beside the front door caught his eye. A letter.


	15. Chapter 15

Shrill, cacophonous hisses were produced by your house telephone as you chose Kamski's number, praying to whatever divine force there may have been watching you that he was at home.

After putting in the number, you brought up the speaker to your ear, and held up the microphone to your mouth with the other trembling hand. You stifled your tears, crying silently, wiping the hot salty trails of liquid off with your sleeve as soon as they slid down your cheeks.

"Hello, this is Elijah Kamski speaking."

"Elijah...hi, I, it's (y/n). I'm...I'm glad you answered. I-"

"You don't sound alright."

"Brennan is- He- ugh, fuck, I...Brennan is dead. I-I just got a letter." Your voice burned your throat when you spoke. But something about hearing Kamski's perfectly calm voice was...soothing.

"Calm down, deep breaths. I-...I'm free at the moment. Do you want me to stop by?"

"That, that would be nice, actually. T-Thank you."

He hung up without another word, which made you let go of the speaker and the microphone, crashing down onto the floor, face hidden in your knees. You just wanted to weep until the whole world around you would disappear. You kept telling yourself that you weren't ever going to see your brother again, the truth always hitting you harder than before. Your brain kept denying it. Denying the fact that you would never see Brennan again. It was stupid, but when your bedroom door creaked open, you hoped-no, you prayed- it would be Brennan, smiling cheekily as he always did. But it wasn't-of course it wasn't.

"Assistant?"

Connor.

"I...You need to leave." You answered. And that was true-not only because you wanted to spend these seemingly eerie, never ending moments with someone that was capable of understanding grief, but also because Kamski was not going to be happy if he were to find Connor at your place.

"I just saw the letter." He spoke up. "If I had known, I...I wouldn't have forced you to talk. I can understand if you want to be alone."

"I never gave you permission to-" You began, then stopped yourself. Connor probably didn't have any ill intentions when he tried to find out what had upset you. Telling him off like that felt...wrong. 

"Sorry, assistant. I promise it won't happen again, and that I'll be on my way." He spun on his heels, closing the door behind himself and left. Without another word.

God, why did everything have to be so complicated? Why did Brennan have to leave? Why did he have to die? Why did you become so harsh on Connor? 

Overwhelmed by emotions, you hugged your legs closer, pressing your eyes closed, tear-soaked eyelashes clinging together as you buried your face in your knees.

You stayed like that for God knows how long, until someone knocked at the door. Even summoning the force to stand up was near impossible, and dragging yourself to the door turned out to be even more draining than that. As soon as you opened the it, you had almost crashed into the person's arms-Kamski.

"I'm so sorry, I..."

Witty, icy eyes rested on your face knowingly and comfortingly.

"It's alright." He answered. "May I come inside?"

"Yeah, please..." You moved aside to let him enter.

"You look exhausted. Go and sit down somewhere. I'll make us some tea." 

You could barely nod and drag yourself to the living room, letting yourself fall onto the couch. Only minutes later, Kamski returned, holding two cups. He had used to visit you rather often back in the day, and it seemed like he hadn't forgotten where everything was.

He offered the cup to you as you shakily took it from him, setting it in your lap. 

"I know you don't want me to feed you sugarcoated lies. I'm not about to tell you Brennan is in a better place, or that there must be a specific reason he passed away, or that he died a hero's death. No one knows how he passed. Whether it was heroic, or cowardly. But I want you to know, (y/n)..." Elijah sighed, closing his eyes for a second before looking back at you. "I want you to know that I am here for you. I made a promise to your brother when he enrolled, and I am going to keep it."

"Thank you." You answered weakly. It was pathetic to find yourself in such a state, but you could not summon the needed energy to change your situation. Not at that moment.

"Drink up." Elijah instructed and sat down next to you. Obediently, you brought the steaming cup to your lips, taking a sip. The warm beverage washed down your throat, loosening the knot that hardly allowed you to breathe, and helping you swallow back your tears. "You've got all of today and tomorrow to rest. On Monday, I want you back on your feet and working. I will make sure not to burden you too much, but you're going to need something to take your mind off of Brennan. Staying productive is the best thing you can do."

Elijah was right, as always. How could you ever have doubted him? Questioned him? Because of a missing memory drive! It seemed-no, it was ridiculous. Everything Elijah had done up until then was for a specific reason, and you knew you could count on him. He was all you had left of your brother, after all.

"Thank you, Elijah. For everything."

"You're welcome." Softly, he laid one hand on your shoulder, the heat of his palm radiating through your clothes.

Yes, he was your boss, but he was also family. Or the closest thing you'll have to family ever again. Reluctantly, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, closing your eyes shut as you inhaled a fragile breath.

"It's alright. Everything is going to be alright." The warm hand from your shoulder moved to your back, holding you close. In that moment, you realized that all you needed was someone warm, and someone that understood. And although Connor may have not been that person, Elijah was.


	16. Chapter 16

Kamski had been kind enough to spend his entire Saturday with you, helping you with chores and providing moral support. Sunday was dreadful, yet passed quickly enough for you to not be able to remember anything other than Connor knocking on your door at exactly 12 pm, insisting a few times, then leaving when he realized you weren't going to open up, and Elijah stopping by to bring you dinner and make sure everything was alright.

Kamski had also insisted for you to come to work one hour later than usual, to make sure you got enough sleep, an offer you greatly appreciated, but had no use for. Sleeping was nearly impossible.

So there you were, standing in front of the workshop at 6:30 am, rain pouring down on you, clothes soaked, hand wrapped around the doorknob. You had been frozen in place for a good few minutes, unable to go further. You had no idea what exactly you were trying to avoid.

The handle slipped out of your grip as the door opened by itself (or so you thought), before you noticed Connor carefully peeking outside.

"Good morning, assistant." He answered politely and with a soft careful tone coating his words.

That was what you had been trying to avoid: Confronting Connor. You had hurt him, and you were well aware of that at that moment, although you tried to shrug it off with the pretext that he was just a machine. Treating him like that was wrong. He hadn't...he hadn't done anything wrong, other than try to understand.

"I'm sorry." You answered, staring down at your shoes, not daring to step inside. 

The silence that followed was accompanied by the pitter-patter of rain on the pavement.

"What for?" Connor tilted his head, LED blinking yellow in confusion. He was trying to understand, the poor thing. Always trying.

"For...shutting you out. You didn't deserve that."

"Grief is a strong emotion. I can understand why you were perturbed. Or...I'm trying to." The Android answered with a half-hearted smile. "You should come inside. Catching a cold on top of everything that is already happening would be inconvenient."

"Yeah." You nodded, still avoiding his searching chocolate gaze and entered. And almost stumbled over a huge amount of books spread out all over the floor.

"Excuse the mess. I...attempted familiarizing myself with multiple things while you and mister Kamski were away. And you came 30 minutes earlier than expected, so I didn't find the time to clean up. Excuse me while I do so, assistant." 

The Android left you to your own devices after explaining and rushed to gather all the books spread across the floor. You recognized some to be addressing human psychology, others were manuals made by Kamski himself, containing instructions on modifying the so-called "reptilian brain" of Androids. What exactly had Connor-

"(Y/n), I am going to have to ask you not to tell mister Kamski about my activities. My intentions are not ill, and I-"

A pit of uncertainty formed in your stomach. Something was off.

"What exactly have you been doing?" 

"I've ensured your safety." Connor answered, nothing but honestly in his words. "Or as much of it as I can."

"How can I trust you?" You shook your head and backed away to the door, fingers already wrapping around the knob. You were mentally reharsing the fastest route to Elijah's home.

"Just the way you did when we ran away from that bar. When you let me guide you." Connor answered, steadily making his way over to you. Carefully, he took your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles just the way you had on on that blissful Friday night, which seemed years away. "You need to trust me, (y/n). Please."

You bit your lip, reluctantly stepping away from the door. 

"Alright. I...okay." You took a deep breath and nodded. "Gather the books. I- I'll help you put them back."

-

"Good morning, (y/n). How are you feeling?"

"Good...I...better."

"I see you have refused my offer of sleeping in." Kamski chuckled to himself. "RK800, for how long has she been here?"

"(Y/n) has arrived exactly 11 minutes and 54 seconds before you, mister Kamski." Connor lied with a professionalism you still could not believe he had. But why did Connor feel the need to lie to Elijah?

"Good. We've got work to do. I've received a letter from the authorities: The Allied forces in Normandy have captured Carentan. They need more reinforcements and have requested for the RK800 to return. I'll need you to prepare it for the flight and package it properly."

Something dangerously close to nausea settled in your stomach as you couldn't help but find Connor with your gaze, who was looking almost equally shocked as you felt, although he seemed to be doing a better job at hiding it.

You had lied to yourself-You knew this day was going to come...the day you sent Connor away. Maybe to lose his memory again.

To lose everything you've done together and be the machine he was created to be.

"Of course."

"Before you begin preparing it, though, I'll need you to download it's decryption feature and combat knowledge onto the RK900's future memory drive." Kamski disappeared inside his office, took an almost suspicious amount of time to return, then handed you a small, cuboid-shaped metallic piece and a wire. "You know what you've got to do."

"Yes."

Kamski disappeared inside his office once again. Hands trembling, you clutched the wire and memory drive, then nodded for Connor to follow you. Silently, you led him inside the storage room. A knot had settled in your throat, making it painful to breathe.

"Sit down, Connor." You gestured to a nearby cardboard box. He obeyed, turning his back towards you to give you full access over his processors as you approached.

You brushed some of his soft hair aside with care, finding the small button on his metallic skull, pressing it. A part of it popped open, revealing the wires blinking a soft, calm blue wires inside his head, contradicting his red flashing LED.

"I don't want to leave, (y/n)."

Oh, Connor.


	17. Chapter 17

"I don't...I don't want you to leave either." You swallowed a mouthful of saliva to loosen the knot in your throat, however to no avail.

You unrolled the wire Kamski had given you as Connor moved to look at you over his shoulder with an emotion you couldn't identify.

"Hold still for a bit. This might feel slightly uncomfortable." You tried to change the subject to keep the tears from falling. First Brennan, now Connor...what else was the world going to take from you?

The Android nodded and returned his head in its initial position, face facing away from you. You plugged the cable into a port inside his skull, then plugged the other end inside the RK900's future memory drive.

"I will need you to select your knowledge regarding combat and your decryption feature, and copy them onto this memory drive. Do you understand, Connor?"

"Yes, assistant."

"Good. I-I will prepare your packaging while you do that."

You gave him the memory drive while you walked to the other side of the room, where you pulled out the box Connor had arrived in. It seemed intact for the most part, so you decided to use that one. After that, you searched for the nearest crate and opened it. The interior was soft, containing elastic foam molded specifically after Connor's body. Only a werk ago, you had considered it to be the perfect method to prevent damaging an Android worth a small fortune, but now-now it was the small prison you were supposed to force Connor into, to ship him off to a God-forgotten land, just to die.

"Are you...A-Are you done, Connor?"

"Just a minute, assistant."

He was taking too long. Not that you minded spending a little more time with him before he left, but shipping him off with potential errors was the last thing you wanted to do. You could at least try to ensure his survival and make sure everything functioned properly.

"Let me see."

Connor clenched the memory drive in his fist, his LED flashing yellow, blue, yellow, blue every few seconds. He was downloading far more than Kamski had requested.

"No, please. I...I cherish these moments spent with you. I don't want to lose them, not again. Not like last time." Connor pleaded, backing away from you, keeping the memory drive close to his chest as his LED continued flashing yellow and blue. "Please."

He was right. 

You weren't-You refused to let the world take anything else from you. When it came to Brennan, you hadn't gotten a chance to fight for him, to protect him. But with Connor, you could. And you were going to.

His LED stopped flashing as you gazed back at him, settling to the calm blue you knew too well. "There, I'm finished. I...downloaded everything I felt was important."

"You won't need it. We're running away."

Connor's LED immediately flooded with red. "We can't do that. I will not put you in danger for my sake. You might lose your job, you could get arrested, you- Where would we even go?"

"Canada. We'll find someone that can get us fake passports and we'll cross the border. We'll start a new life there."

But what about Elijah? What was going to happen to him? You couldn't just leave him behind.

Lost in your thoughts, you abruptly stopped talking.

"You're worried about him, aren't you? Kamski." Connor spoke carefully. "You consider him a brother figure, is that it?"

"I-I do, yeah. He was Brennan's best friend, after all."

"He is collaborating with the Germans."

As if the stress from knowing Connor was going to leave wasn't enough, this sentence surely took the cake.

"He is...he is what now?" You answered, hands trembling. No, that couldn't be right. He couldn't just- Kamski would never- 

And that's when you finally realized. You realized that your entire relationship with Kamski was based on the death of a person. He had no interest in you, other than keeping his promise to his best friend. Kamski didn't see any sort of family in you-you were just another problem he had been assigned to fix.

"You would not believe how many things you can find out about a person if you go through their personal belongings." Connor added with a tinge of eerie irony.

Everything Elijah had done up until that very moment was fake. Nothing more than what was necessary to keep his promise to Brennan.

"Are you...sure?"

"I found letters in German and translated them. It seems Elijah believes that his creations would have a better chance of growing in Germany, rather than in America. The Nazis have offered to mass-produce Androids and use them in all possible fields, such as medicine, labor work, teaching...almost everything. That would make Kamski rich, so it's obvious he accepted. Just compare it to what the American government does-they only use us as military forces."

"And the memory drive...? Why..."

"He had downloaded blueprints for Androids in my memory and used me to deliver them, if you will. All the Nazis had to do was damage me enough to make sure I couldn't escape, take my memory drive, and then send me back to Kamski to get another batch. The safest and easiest method one could think of. I was almost impressed myself when I found out."

Your blood felt like it was on the verge of boiling. Kamski, in spite of being fully aware of all the horrible things the Nazis had caused, and knowing that it was them that killed Brennan, had the guts to cooperate with the enemy. To sell himself and his entire nation to the Axis!

Cowardly, disgusting, opportunistic-You couldn't even begin to list all the things you would call him if you could.

"Get in the box. I will be here at exactly midnight to get you out, and we'll sneak out and leave. I'll get us bus tickets." You spoke sternly.

"Good. And (Y/n)?"

"Yeah?"

"Keep the spare memory drive with you. Just in case."


	18. Chapter 18

The night wasn't chilly, but instead the air was thick and unmovable with heat, in spite of the missing sun. A bit too warm for your liking. But at least you wouldn't have to worry about being cold.

You clutched onto the straps of your backpack, which contained two changes of clothes, two bus tickets to the Canadian border, and all the money you had.

Fishing out the keys of the workshop, you tiptoed to the entrance, stuffing them inside the lock and opening it.

You were more than shocked to find the lights on. Kamski was standing in the middle of the room, and Connor right beside him, on standby.

"I was expecting you, (y/n)." Said Elijah, hands held behind his back, with a knowing, pitiful look in his eyes.

Oh, God.

"What are you doing here?"

"Don't be foolish. I could be asking you the same thing." He chuckled to himself, then shook his head. "And I could also be asking you what exactly you had been hoping to achieve in these past few days."

Your stomach did a flip at his words. He couldn't-There was no way for him to know, right?! No, it was impossible.

"Did you really think I was this ignorant? This deceivable? That I didn't notice my hat being misplaced after your little escapades to town? That I hadn't seen the way you looked at each-other when I announced that 'Connor', as you like to call him, was going to be shipped back to France?" Kamski unfolded his hands, revealing a small booklet. Plato's Symposium. "Or that you tried to teach a machine philosophy?"

You felt tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He had known, from the very beginning. Kamski had known.

You had no time to think further as you heard the clicking of a loading gun.

"Everything you've done was so foolish, (y/n). Can't you see that all you're doing is hurting yourself further? You've already lost Brennan, and now you decided to get attached to a machine?" He shook his head in disapproval, then revealed another object he had been holding behind his back: a gun. Smiling, he glued it to Connor's temple, then spoke up.

"RK800, restart."

Lashes trembling, Connor's dark eyes fluttered open. Completely unmoved by the fact that a weapon was aimed at his head, he scanned his surroundings, then Kamski, and then you. His expression was perfectly neutral. What had Kamski-

"I remember us discussing Androids once. We both agreed that they were perfect soldiers, so much less fragile than humans. But you see, all it took was a flick of my wrist and some talent in programming, and poof! Just like new. Literally. The only inconvenience is that I'll have to download its decryption feature all over again."

He had deleted Connor's memory.

The Android only raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down in a perfectly calm manner.

"Connor!"

"I don't think he goes by that name anymore." Kamski added, shaking his head. "You really did change the Android. Almost taught it how to feel, even. Just minutes ago, it had been afraid to die, trying to fight me when I got it out of its box. And now look at it- obedient, docile, calm. As it should be."

"Elijah, you fucking asshole! How fucking dare y-"

You charged for him, however he was quick enough to place the gun in Connor's hands. Mechanically, the Android aimed it at you, nothing but a stern, empty look in his chocolate eyes.

"I would advise you not to hurt my creator." Connor said, eyes resting on your face.

You could feel the memory drive in your pocket, pressed against your body. You could give Connor his memories back, but for that, you would need a few minutes of tranquility and cooperation from both him and Elijah. Something you lacked.

You had the cure to your problem and yet you couldn't use it.

Connor was staring at you coldly, gun pointed at your head as if he were about to kill off a meaningless being, something easily disposable.

QW5hbHl6aW5nIGZhY2lhbCBmZWF0dXJlc+KApg==

Kamski sighed and looked at you in disappointment. "You shouldn't have become emotionally attached to a machine. You were fully aware of the consequences, (y/n). You did this to yourself."

RmFjZSByZWNvZ25pemVkLg==

KFkvbikgKGwvbikgMTAwJSBtYXRjaA==

The air was thick with tension, none of you daring to say anything. Except for Elijah.

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"What is it to you? You gave it a name and cared for its wellbeing, so a pet, maybe? A friend? A lover?" You could only stare at Kamski, wordless. "Or what did you think you were to it?"

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Connor's LED blinked yellow, then red. 

And then he rammed the gun into Elijah's face.

The man stumbled backwards, colliding with the floor, and clutching his nose.

Connor only rushed to your side, took your wrist, and dragged you outside the workshop, hurrying down the stairs. His grip on your hand was almost unbearably tight as he dragged you behind him at maximum speed, sprinting away from the workshop as quickly as he could. Your lungs were burning with the amount of air you breathed in and out as you struggled to keep up with Connor. 

The soles of your shoes sounded like small thunders when they collided with the dry asphalt on the street.

You heard the door of your workshop open. Kamski stormed outside.

A warning shot was fired at your feet.

Fuck.

"Stop right there or I'll shoot the Android!" Kamski shouted. Connor insisted to keep going, however you pulled his wrist backwards.

"We can't risk that. I'll reason with him."

Connor looked at you, eyes still soulless, brows furrowed in what seemed to be annoyance and inner conflict, but then nodded.

You turned around to face the workshop and Elijah, who was approaching you slowly, gun aimed at Connor.

His nose was heavily bleeding, crimson liquid running down his lips, chin, and dripping onto his white shirt.

"Elijah, please. I...we just want to be happy. Is that so difficult to understand?" You swallowed the knot in your throat. Elijah aimed the gun at Connor once again.

"You didn't answer my question. What were you trying to be?"

"I was..." You swallowed thickly, searching your brain for an answer. "I am nothing but a reminder to him. A reminder that there's more to see than just war, more to feel than emptiness, I'm..."

"Where would you even go, (y/n)?" Kamski said, tightening his grip on the weapon when the Android attempted to move towards him.

He wouldn't hesitate to shoot Connor, you knew that. But when it came to you, he probably wouldn't. Hopefully. So you positioned yourself in front of the Android, between him and Elijah.

The man's cold, icy eyes widened in the slightest, but his grip remained steady.

"(Y/n), that position is not sa-" Connor reached to put his hand on your shoulder, but you were quick enough to grab it in your own. You intertwined your fingers and kept him behind you.

"I got this. Trust me like I trusted you." You whispered. "We're leaving the country." You then said loud enough for Kamski to hear, and felt Connor tense behind you in slight shock. How much exactly did he remember?

"Canada?" Elijah asked.

"Yeah." You nodded your head and looked at Connor over your shoulder. "I want him to be free. To know what it's like to feel human." You tightened your grip around Connor's hand. You had no idea how much he remembered and how much he didn't. But you knew that you would fight for his freedom, no matter what it took. "He deserves that."

"So it's a 'he', huh." Kamski stared at the floor and grunted. "I've made a promise to Brennan. I'm sure you still remember, that day he enrolled. I promised I'd be there for you. That no matter what happened to him, I'll take care of his sister."

"And you did. You really did, Elijah. I couldn't have asked for more."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.

"Alright. Stay here, I will be right back. And don't move."

He spun on his heels and jogged back inside the workshop.

"Come on. We should put as much distance between us and him as possible."

"No, Connor. We should wait here. I trust that he will not harm us, not anymore."

He furrowed his brows again, head tilted in that adorable fashion. "Is Connor the name you gave me?"

That hurt more than you anticipated. Kamski had done more damage than you would have expected.

"Yeah. It-It's what I used to call you."

"Does it have a meaning?"

"Yes."


	19. Chapter 19

Kamski returned exactly when you were about to answer Connor's question. He was holding a backpack in one hand, and the gun in his other. You could feel the Android tense behind you, ready to flee at any second.

"Here. Some necessities." Elijah explained, offering you the backpack. You took it from him and opened it to peek inside.

A spare Thirium pump, bags of blue blood, some money, a small notebook, the wire you had used to download Connor's memories, a spare pair of male pants and an android leg. A spare Android leg and pants?! Why-

"I'm sorry, but the police are going to start looking for you. And while I do want to help you-" Kamski pulled out something metallic and threw it at Connor. The Android easily caught it. Car keys. "You have to understand that it mustn't look like I actually have. So, (y/n), Connor," He said the name in a strange manner, loading the gun again. "I hope you two understand that what I'm about to right now is necessary." He aimed it at the Android's right leg and pulled the trigger.

Boom!

With a wince, Connor fell to the floor on his healthy knee, face twisted in...pain? Was he capable of feeling pain?

"Connor!"

You rushed to his side and helped him stand back up, putting his right arm around your shoulders. He hissed through gritted teeth in displeasure. Your heart clenched at the sight before you: right leg of his pants already soaked with blue, face twisted into a disdainful frown, and fists balled so tightly that they turned white.

"I'm sorry, (y/n). Take my car, and drive to the Detroit train station. Leave it on a nearby street. Change the RK800's leg-the spare should be in the backpack- and get on the train. I have a friend at the border who could help you get fake IDs. His address is in the notebook I gave you, along with a Detroit city map. Best of luck to you."

You helped Connor drag himself inside the car and position his legs on the pedals. You noticed him grip the steering wheel tightly.

"Thank you, Elijah."

The man smiled, as sincere as you had ever witnessed him. He still was some sort of family to you, even after everything he had done.

You tackled the man in a quick hug, then hurried inside the car, on the passenger seat.

As soon as you closed the door and seated yourself on the leather seat, Connor drove away, into the empty, inky summer night.

You took a deep breath, then spoke up.

"How much do you remember, Connor?"

"I remember nothing."

"Then how-"

"I don't know if you're aware, but Androids are equipped with an extremely small part of their processor that cannot be removed, which stores all the basic information such as the year of release, purpose, creator and the like. This function has been inspired by the human's 'reptilian brain', which controls similarly basic functions, for instance breathing, heart rate, or body temperature." 

He was still the same, after all. You couldn't help but stifle a smile.

"And, what are you getting at?"

"My purpose stated only two words: 'Protect (y/n)'. I also found your facial features saved in my 'reptilian brain', thus I was able to identify you after running a face scan."

So he didn't remember anything. That was almost sad to think about, until you remembered: the spare memory drive. The cable given to you by Kamski. Although you couldn't help but wonder who exactly had modified his basic informations. 

"Mister Kamski said there was a map inside the notebook he had given you. Would you mind me taking a quick look at it?

"I-no, of course not. Let me get it for you." You opened the backpack and looked inside, only to realize it was yours, then took the other, where you managed to finally find the map.

You unfolded it with care, then held it out for Connor to see as he continued driving with one hand.

"I can make no sense of the letters."

Oh, of course. He was missing his decryption feature. 

"I'll read them for you. We should be on..." You stared at the map, then took a quick look outside the car window. "We should be on William's Lake road right now. And we need to get...there."

You turned the map towards Connor, showing him the two locations with your fingers. He furrowed his brows once again, LED blinking yellow, then nodded. "Route calculated. We should be there in about 25 minutes."

"Good." You nodded and leaned back in the car seat, taking a deep breath. "This was intense, huh? All of the past few days."

"I'm afraid I can't be the judge of that."

Oh. 

"Yeah, I- I forgot for a second. Sorry. How's your leg?"

"My leg?" He raised a brow, then understood. "It feels...unpleasant, but not enough to be distracting. I know humans react more intensely to pain, correct?"

"Yeah." You shrugged your shoulders. "Guess that's why I got worried."

"As long as I don't lose too much blue blood, I should be fine. My limit is-"

"Fifty percent, I know." Connor smiled in slight wonder at your words, but stayed silent, focused on the road. You smiled as well, putting your hand on top of his on the gearshift, stroking his knuckles with your fingertips. "I'm glad you're safe."

One corner of his mouth perked upwards again.

"I think I can understand why my purpose is to keep you safe, too."

The rest of the ride was silent, although you couldn't deny that you enjoyed it, since your thoughts had also quieted down. You were on the verge of falling asleep when the car stopped and Connor announced: "We've arrived."

Shaking your head to wake yourself up, you got out of the car and walked around it, over to Connor's side.

The Android was struggling to find balance as his right leg kept giving in under him, hands holding onto the car's roof as if his life depended on it.

Oh, Connor. Always trying.


	20. Chapter 20

"Sit back down and let me help." You instructed.

Connor's gaze found yours, and he realized that you allowed no backtalk. He seated himself inside the car, however turned towards the side, with his feet still on the pavement.

"Roll up your pants."

He got to work silently, occasionally releasing a soft grunt of displeasure, while you searched for the leg in Kamski's backpack. It was perfectly compatible with the RK800 and was also the right one. 

You kneeled down in front of Connor, not really caring about dirtying your dress, and put your hands on his right knee. After letting your fingers feel the surface, you managed to find the two small buttons in the popliteal area. You positioned both your indexes on them, pressed down, and pulled the leg away. 

"Feel anything?" You asked as you put the damaged limb away and reached for the spare one.

"No. The...discomfort has ceased."

"Good. While I put the other one on, take Kamski's backpack and look for a cable."

Connor complied, the rustling of fabric accompanying the clicking caused by the limb connecting to the rest of the leg.

Satisfied with your work, you rose back to your feet and looked at the Android, who was holding out the cable to you. Gently, you took it from him, fingers brushing against his. His skin was cold, but soft.

"I'll need you to turn around for this so I can access your processor."

"So you have knowledge in robotics? Just like Kamski?"

Oh, right. He had no way of knowing that you were his assistant. Or that you used to be.

"Yeah. I contributed in the creation of Androids. I was the one that made the physical designs, for instance the faces." You opened his skull, quickly finding the place you needed to put the plug into. "And I also tested Androids and took care of bugs or glitches." You fished the spare memory drive out of your pocket, and connected it to the other end of the wire. "But once we're done with this, you'll already know that. Much more than that."

Connor closed his eyes, led once again blinking yellow, then blue, yellow, blue...the cycle continued for a minute.

Your heart was hammering in anticipation, stomach fuzzy and warm. You were going to get Connor back.

Thick, black lashes trembling, he woke up, brows furrowed in absolute confusion for a second. Until his gaze landed on you.

"(Y/n)..." He whispered in wonder, the biggest, goofiest, most sincere smile you had ever seen on him washing over his face. He immediately stood up, slightly unsteady on his new leg, eyes glistening. Was he...was he crying?

You laughed in relief and utter bliss, immediately bringing Connor into a crushing hug. He was back. Your Connor was back.

Hot tears spilled over your cheeks and landed on the Android's suit as he reluctantly embraced you too, arms wrapping around your back.

"I'm here. You're here." You whispered, running your hands up and down his back, as if you were still in disbelief that it was actually him, physically standing in front of you, holding you close. "Connor."

He nuzzled his face into your hair, enjoying the closeness more than he would have ever cared to admit. His Thirium pump was hammering erratically, you could clearly feel the beats as he embraced you.

Slowly, far too soon for Connor's liking, you let go, moving your hands up his neck to cup his face. He really had cried, one glistening trail of a tear on his cheek. 

"I'm so happy I could get you back." You smiled gently. Unlike Brennan, saving him had been a success. Finally, something positive.

Connor's led blinked yellow, then blue as he smirked back, putting his hands over yours, enjoying the touch. Blissful, warm, fuzzy—it felt like home.

"We should get going." Connor then added, taking off your hands in spite of not wanting to. "You said you have bus tickets, right?"

"They'll get us to the border." You nodded and pulled them out of the backpack, presenting them to the Android. With eager, careful eyes, he analyzed them, then looked back at you.

"And Kamski's friend? May I take a look at the address?"

You found the notebook and presented it to him as his LED flashed yellow once again.

"It's right by the border as well. We should take the bus, look for him, and then cross." Connor explained.

"Good. But before anything else, we...we need to get rid of your LED."

You could see a trace disdain on Connor's face, however he didn't say anything, other than nod.

"Be right back, I'm going to go look for something sharp. Stay low. And cover your LED with something, since it's pretty visible when it's so dark out. Okay?"

"Okay."

You returned to the car only minutes later with a sharp stone, watching Connor stare at virtually nothing, LED blinking a soft amber under the hand he had laid on his temple to conceal it.

"Do you want to do it, or should I?"

"I can do it." He answered sternly and took the stone from you, bringing it up to his forehead. The LED blinked a deep red, a tremor going through Connor's hand.

"Let me. You're going to end up hurting yourself."

You tiptoed to be able to get a proper look at his temple, then took the stone back from Connor. 

"Sorry. For being such a nuisance." He added while you focused on the LED. "First, I get my memory deleted, then I get shot in the leg, and then...this."

"It's not your fault, Connor." You forced out a side of the led with the tip of the stone, then pushed it below the metallic piece, which finally caused it to break off. You caught it in your hand before it hit the floor, then showed the transparent, lightless piece to Connor. "Here. One step closer to being a human." You smiled.

"May I keep this, assist—"

"Well, I'm technically not an assistant anymore, but yes. Of course you can."

"I don't know why I feel the need to hold onto it."

"Sometimes, Connor..." You shrugged your shoulders cluelessly. "Sometimes it's important to hold onto your past too. It shows you who you were. And maybe one day..." You put your hand over his, closing his fist around the LED. "Maybe one day I could put it back and you can wear it without being afraid of anyone or anything. One day."

He smiled bitterly. "One day."


	21. Chapter 21

You reluctantly stepped inside the bus, Connor following closely behind. You presented the tickets to the driver, then found two seats next to each-other and guided Connor towards them as you sat down on the one away from the window.

"I thought humans preferred sitting next to windows in vehicles." Connor said as he lowered himself beside you.

"I've seen the outside world so many times already. You're the one that has yet to discover it all." That was part of the reason. Brennan had always preferred sitting by the window, so you had gotten used to always settling on the other side. A small, tired smile settled on your lips as you leaned your head against his shoulder. Why did your mind always drift back to your brother?

"You should probably get some rest." He answered, slightly taken aback by the public display of affection. Sure, the bus wasn't exactly full, especially at such a time, but it wasn't empty either.

"Was planning on it, but thanks." You whispered, voice slightly muffled by the material of his suit. You hoped your mind would already give in to the fatigue you felt and stop thinking about your brother for just a few hours. You cuddled into Connor's shoulder, placing your hand on top of his on the armrest, and huffed softly.

Soon enough, the bus started moving.

Connor switched to looking outside to preoccupy his mind with something. He let his eyes wander over the ebony scenery in front of him, occasionally analyzing you to make sure you were as comfortable as possible and resting properly.

—

"Last stop!" Announced the bus driver, everyone around you drowsily rising to their feet. Connor reached to softly brush a strand of hair out of your face.

"(Y/n). (Y/n)...? Wake up." Connor almost felt guilty for taking your much-needed sleep from you, but there wasn't much he could do.

Your eyes fluttered open as you almost yelped at how close his face was to yours.

"I'm up, I'm up." You answered. "So it wasn't just a dream, hm? You, Kamski, Brennan...everything."

"No." Connor shook his head. "Come on, we've got to leave the bus and find Kamski's friend."

He was right, there was no time to lose. Still wobbly on your legs, you stood up and followed Connor out of the bus.

"The address is about one kilometer away from the station. We should get there soon enough. Stay close to me, (y/n)."

You felt heat gather in your cheeks at his words.

"We should try to find shelter for the night after that. You're obviously too tired to keep going. When was the last time you rested?"

"Yesterd—"

"Rested properly." Connor interrupted. You were left wordless, which earned a knowing huff from him. "As I thought."

"We can't afford doing that right now. Not when we're so close to escaping." You said, brows furrowed.

"We'll talk to Kamski's friend first, and then we'll see."

You sighed. "Alright, that's fair."

—

Kamski's friend surely wasn't someone of simple tastes, you were sure of that. The house was unusually big for a urban area, front garden decorated with all sorts of flowers. The house's facade was of a soft, pastel creme. Even the door was made out of some sort of expensive wood.

Connor stopped on the front porch, with you sticking close, and knocked on the door once. Then twice.

You could clearly hear some ruckus going on inside the house before the entrance slowly opened.

A thin, tall, about 50 year old man was standing in front of the door, his forehead nearly touching the upper part of the doorframe. His eyes were a mesmerizing ocean blue, and his hair was almost bleach blond.

"Hello." Connor began, stepping closer, positioning himself to stand sightly in front of you.

"What could someone possibly want at this hour?" His voice was clear, with a certain softness to it.

"We've been told you could help us." Connor spoke calmly.

"You've come to the wrong place." The blond man shook his head and closed the door shut.

"Please! We've...Elijah Kamski sent us here." You interjected, rushing to position your foot against the door to stop him from closing it.

"Ugh, that fucking schmoozer." The man grunted and tilted his head from side to side, mentally weighing out his options. "Alright, come in. I owe him this." 

You wanted to step inside but Connor was quicker, assuming his protective stance in beside of you once again as he entered first. So paranoid, you chuckled to yourself.

"Meet my daughter, Chloe." The man gestured to a beautiful young woman standing in the living room, dressed in a ocean blue dress which matched her and her father's eyes. She was familiar. You had seen her features before, somewhere, you were sure of it.

"Hello." She greeted, nodding politely and rushing to her father's side.

"Well, what do you need?"

"We...need fake passports. We want to leave the country." You said before Connor had the chance to.

"A young couple on the run." He concluded. "Why?"

"It's a long story." Connor spoke sternly, with a certain sharpness in his voice.

"Well then I'm afraid I won't be able to—"

"He's an Android." Said the young woman, nodding at Connor. The older man's features curled into a knowing smirk. "I ran a heat scan." She added.

That's when you realized why you felt like she was familiar: Chloe was an ST200 model, the first android ever created by Elijah. She was also the only one of her kind, since the American government had rejected mass producing a female android, considering that she was seen as useless in the military forces.

"So are you." Connor retorted to the young woman, extending his hand in front of you in an attempt to get you to stand behind him. You laid one hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"No need to get defensive. I believe we should introduce ourselves first. My name is Conroy Shepherd. Kamski's former mechanics teacher. You must be his assistant, (y/n)." The man turned to look at you. 

"Yes. (Y/n) (l/n). And this is Connor." You gestured to the Android carefully, grasping his wrist to lower his hand. "Chloe is an RT600, right?"

"Elijah's first and only female Android, yes." He nodded.

"I haven't been a part of her creation, but— Her facial design is exceptional."

"That's because she has been designed after my deceased daughter." Conroy interrupted your speech. "Kamski's so-called 'one true love' That asshole spent his entire teenage-hood and early adulthood trying to win her heart and make me approve of their relationship. Like I said. Schmoozer." The man laughed ironically.

You had never actually questioned why Kamski had always lacked interest in romantic relationships, but at that moment, it all made sense.

"So that's why I hadn't ever found an RT600 in the storage room." You concluded. "Kamski had given it— her to you. I never knew."

"Well, he prefers not to talk about his past. Can't blame you." The old man acknowledged and shrugged his shoulders. "What about the charming young man?"

"I am an RK800, the most advanced prototype created by Kamski so far." Connor answered mechanically, his body tense. "It has been nice talking to you, mister Shepherd, but I'm afraid we're in a hurry. So, can you help us get fake passports or not?"

"Yes, that would be possible."


	22. Chapter 22

"You're lucky I'm in debt to Elijah." The older man sighed and spoke again. "Chloe will take care of your passports. I have given her all the information necessary. They should be done by morning. You two should go rest." Conroy said, eyes skipping back and forth between you and Connor. "Or at least you, (y/n)."

"I will."

"There is a guest room upstairs, at the end of the corridor. You can share it, if that's not a problem."

"No, of course not. Thank you very much, mister Shepherd. For everything." You smiled.

"You're welcome." He nodded and returned to the living room, leaving you and Connor alone. 

"Come on." You turned around to grab Connor's wrist and guide him upstairs with you. He wordlessly followed you, eyes as doe and as clueless as they had always been.

You found the guest room easily and threw yourself onto the bed, taking a deep, exhausted sigh. Connor stood beside the bed cluelessly, fidgeting with his hands subconsciously.

"Stay with me for a while." You offered and pat a spot beside you. "There's enough room."

"Are you sure it's alright? I would dislike intruding your personal space without proper consent."

Always so formal.

You giggled in amusement. "Of course it is. C'mere."

Connor took a seat on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes, then positioned the pillows to allow him to sit up. He lay down beside you, unsure of what to do, say, and even think. This was all sorts of new for him.

"I know you don't get physically tired and all, but...a break still feels nice from time to time, doesn't it?"

"A lot of things feel...like the right thing to do when you are around. Although I cannot seem to be able to explain why." Connor confessed, his pump skipping a beat when you took his hand in yours and set it on your cheek.

Just like you had done to him after he had regained his memory, Connor curled his fingers under your chin, cupping your face with his other hand.

"Can I ask you something?" You raised an eyebrow and stared up at Connor after he asked. Your hair disheveled, with some of the more rebellious strands framing your face, lips curled into a soft, gentle smile, eyes closed peacefully as you talked—that was positively the most wonderful sight Connor had ever witnessed.

"Of course."

"You told me your 'reptilian brain' said your purpose was to keep me safe. But that's not—someone's changed it. That wasn't your initial purpose."

"I...changed it by myself. That morning you came earlier than expected and found me with those books scattered across the floor. That's what I had been researching. And, also..." His voice trailed off, and you could have sworn you saw blue tinting his cheeks.

"Also what?" You asked drowsily, moving your head to rest on his lap. Connor swallowed nervously, and you were almost certain that if he still had a LED, it would be blinking red.

"I...tried to understand what was happening to me. I figured that it couldn't have been a glitch after looking through Kamski's notes and realizing that I was the first Android to suffer of Thirium pump palpitations. And of strange feelings in my abdominal area. So I looked through a human psychology book."

"And what was your conclusion?" You held back a giggle.

"That I am either suffering of stress, or that I...am in love." Connor answered, running a hand through his hair and avoiding your gaze. "Although both answers sound equally impossible. I am a machine I— I shouldn't be feeling things. I shouldn't—"

You reached up to his face with your hand and softly tilted it towards you. "You know, the thing about feelings is...it's that you shouldn't rush into anything. You should enjoy them as they come, and you shouldn't read into them too much."

"Hm." Connor hummed and took a strand of your hair between his fingers, playing with it as he processed your words. "Do you think I'd ever be capable of feelings as intense as love?"

"That's for you to see. But, speaking of love, I never told you who my favorite philosopher was, did I?"

"No. Go on."

"Alcibiades. He compares one's lover to the statue of Silenus. It's a sculpture that's ugly and hollow, but on the inside, it's filled with other tiny statues made of gold. And I think that truly is what love means — everyone sees the exterior, y'know? But when you really love someone, you look past that. You find the little golden statues inside." You traced your fingertips over Connor's jaw as you spoke, stroking up to his cheekbones. His face became flooded with blue.

He stared at you for a few seconds, then looked away, perturbed.

"Something wrong?"

"No, I— No. I just couldn't understand—" Connor shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"I think it matters. You can tell me, if you want to." You suggested, letting your hand fall downwards, coming to a halt on the crook of his neck.

"I just had the urge to..." Connor squeezed his expressive eyes shut, then reopened them, face still confused. "I think I had the urge to...to kiss you."

"Maybe you should just give in to it, then." You answered smoothly, in spite of your wildly hammering heart. Slowly, you sat up, positioning yourself in his lap.

"I don't think I have the necessary experience to make it pleasant for the both of us."

"Don't worry. Learning is part of being human." You smiled gently, cradling his face.

Connor had no idea what exactly had caused him to give in to what his inexplicable urge. Maybe it was your words, the way you had touched him, or just...you as a person. But what he did certainly know was that carefully brushing his cold lips over your soft, warm ones made an electric jolt go through him, and made him greedy for more.

He couldn't help but grunt when you ran your fingers through his hair, disheveling it. Connor couldn't deny that everything you were doing felt...absolutely amazing. You smelled slightly like rain and faded perfume, a bewitching combination.

Out of a carnal instinct he didn't even know he had, his hips bucked upwards, against you. The bed creaked at his sudden movement.

You chuckled into the kiss, parting slowly.

"Let's leave that for the near future. Wouldn't want you short-circuiting right on this bed." You joked.

"While Androids do function based on a fair share of electricity, most of the energy we use is generated using exothermic reactions happening in our Thirium. Thus, the risk of a short-circuit is rather low."

You giggled playfully, earning another perplexed look from Connor. "I'm well aware of that. I was just joking."

"Oh."

"It's alright." You smiled and closed your eyes, failing to suppress a yawn. "I'll try going to sleep, but..." you trailed off, almost swearing you heard Brennan's laugh ring in your ears. You were beginning to doubt that your mind was going to let you sleep, in spite of how awfully tired you were.

"I'll stay with you. As long as it takes."

"That's wonderful to hear."


	23. Chapter 23

"Good morning, (y/n). It's exactly seven AM." Connor announced, gently shaking your shoulder. 

"Hm?" You hummed, still half asleep.

"I recommend you get changed so that we can leave as soon as possible. I have already acquired the passwords."

You could only nod drowsily as Connor removed the blanket from your body and began making the bed.

You stood up slowly and reached for your backpack, taking out one of the changes of clothes. Wordlessly, you slipped off your shirt, watching Connor hurry out of the room as soon as you did so. You couldn't help but laugh a bit.

After changing, you stepped outside the room, almost bumping into the ST200- Chloe. 

"Good morning, (y/n). Have you slept well?"

"Yes, actually. Thank you." Her complexion was of rare beauty, you had to admit. Ocean eyes so deep, you could get lost in them, glistening with raw, perfectly human emotion.

"There is someone waiting for you and the Android downstairs."

Your stomach did a flip.

Chloe seemed to have picked up on your change of mood rather quickly, since she smiled comfortingly and added: "An old friend of Conroy's. He is willing to help you cross the border safely."

You nodded and thanked Chloe once more, slinging your backpack over both shoulders and hurrying down the stairs.

At their base, you encountered Connor, whom was staring at a wall, fidgeting with his hands. His expression softened when he laid eyes on you. "You've changed. Good. I've decided to wait for you."

"Thanks." You smiled and hopped down the last stair, now standing beside him. "Is there someone else here?"

"Well, I did hear a man's voice other than Conroy's come from the kitchen, so I'm assuming that's the case." Connor paused and looked at you. "Do you think we should just leave? We do have the passports."

"No. Let's see what they're up to." You suggested.

"I trust your judgement." Connor nodded and followed you to the kitchen, held the door open for you.

Conroy noticed you immediately, sly ocean eyes resting on you. You reached behind yourself, only to realize that Connor hadn't entered the kitchen yet.

Beside Conroy sat another older man, in his fifties, with grey, jaw-length hair and a full beard.

"Good morning (y/n)." Conroy greeted, then gestured to the other man. "This is Lieutenant Hank Anderson. He used to work for the Detroit police department."

Police?!

Your heart hammered in your chest, adrenaline burning through your veins. Out of instinct, you stumbled backwards, reaching for the doorknob.

"No need to worry. Hank has had a sudden...change of heart after working in the army for a while."

"Now that's just the cheesiest way to describe it." Hank spoke up, then looked at you. "Pictured something else when I heard you were Kamski's assistant."

"I-" The door you were leaning onto opened as Connor joined you in the kitchen. You stumbled backwards, however the Android was quick enough to catch you and help you steady yourself.

"(Y/n), is everything alright? I heard noises of distress coming from y-"

"Holy fucking shit." Hank spoke up, interrupting the Android.

Both you and Connor switched to staring at him in surprise. 

"That's-That's him!" Hank exclaimed, eyes thrown wide open in shock as he stared at Connor. He rushed to the Android's side, grasping his forearm in an almost relieved, enthusiastic manner.  "Cole, you plastic prick, don't die on me like that ever again. You have no idea how hard it was to return from Normandy and look for your robotic ass all across Detroit!"

"I'm...afraid I can't follow, Lieutenant. Do we know each-other?"

The man's face went completely pale as he let go of Connor's arm.

"You forgot?"

"What exactly?" Connor asked.

"You- in the army, we-...Never mind." The former police officer stuttered out.

"The RK800 has been on a mission in Omaha, Normandy, so it could be possible that you know him from there." You attempted to fix the situation, however failed miserably.

The policeman only stared at Connor once more, then pried his gaze off of him. You could clearly see that he was hurt. By what exactly, you didn't know. 

"Yeah, it was in Normandy." The Lieutenant answered, then shook his head. "Doesn't matter. He doesn't remember anyways."

"Why did we get someone else implied?" Connor spoke up, to which Conroy only smiled and then turned on the radio.

"The famous Android creator's newest and most advanced model seems to have gained some sort of free will. Elijah Kamski's assistant, along with the robot, an RK800 model, have been allegedly reported missing after an escapade left night. It appears that they have incapacitated Elijah Kamski and then stolen his car, which has been found near a bus station this morning. From there, it is still unknown which way exactly they have gone. Citizens are advised to alert authorities immediately if they have any sort of useful information regarding said subject. We have also interviewed Elijah Kamski, who is still in a state of shock after the traumatizing event."

Conroy stopped the radio before you could listen any further.

"It's been everywhere this morning. The newspapers, the radio, everyone wants to stick their nose in it." Hank explained, leaning against the counter and staring at both you and Connor. "You kids really got yourselves in a shitstorm, didn'tcha."

Conroy smirked and also slid a piece of paper across the table. You saw the huge headline announcing a missing Android and a young woman, accompanied by your concept sketch of Connor's face. There was no picture of you, however. "Kamski gave the police a fake description of you, in case you were wondering. What a sly dog he is."

You exhaled in relief, and Connor's tension also seemed to fade.

"Thank you, Conroy. For everything."

"You're welcome. Best of luck to you and Connor. You deserve to be happy." 

Hank was already leaving the kitchen, and you decided to follow him, with Connor also sticking close to you.

Once you were outside Conroy's not so humble house, you turned around once more to wave goodbye. Connor used that moment to get to the car before you and hold the backseat door open for you. You smiled at his manners but did quick work of seating yourself on the leather bench, the Android settling beside you.

"So, to the border, huh?" Hank asked, getting in the drivers seat.

"Yes."

"Should be a thirty minute drive. Won't be long."

"Good. Thank you too, Lieutenant. For everything you're doing for us." You answered carefully.

He grunted in response. A few minutes into the ride, and everything was dead silent except for the rustling of material as Connor busied himself by playing with his hands.

"Lieutenant Anderson?" The Android spoke up unexpectedly.

You could see Hank's brows furrow through the rearview mirror. "Yeah, Col-Connor? That's what she calls you, right? Connor?"

"Yes. That's my name." The Android nodded sternly, then continued. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"What is this, an interview?" Hank snorted bitterly, both in amusement and disdain. "You've always asked too many personal questions, do you know that?"

"I...didn't."

"Well, I can't deny that either." You added, which earned a halfhearted smile from Hank.

"So, would you mind me asking?" Connor insisted.

"No." 

"I wanted to know how I was...incapacitated. To avoid my past mistake." Connor said, eyes trained on Hank curiously.

"It was my fault." Hank said gruffly. "You were just...dedicated enough to sacrifice yourself for me. They shot you in the legs, then bombed you. Not a pleasant sight." You could see Hank's knuckles turn white as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"My memory drive is assumed to have been taken away by the German soldiers. Can you tell me anything about that?"

Hank's grip loosened gradually. "No."


	24. Chapter 24

"Thank you for the information." Connor nodded sternly and returned to fidgeting with his hands. Always so restless.

You smiled and put your hand atop his, brushing over his knuckles with your thumb. You couldn't tell if it was out of nervousness or if it was just a habit, but it was somewhat adorable.

Doe, clueless eyes shifted over to your face questioningly.

Hank also seemed to have caught onto it.

"You always used to fidget, so I gave you a coin." He added before all of you went silent.

"That's actually not a bad idea." You raised your eyebrows as you thought, then reached for your backpack. You looked through your savings, quickly managing to find a quarter. Smiling, you put it on your index and flicked it upwards, in Connor's direction.

"Catch!" 

He easily caught it mid air with a precision that could only be an Android's. Connor then flicked it in the air just the way you had, letting it fall back in the middle of his palm.

The sounds of the working car engine accompanied the metallic ringing of the coin Connor tossed in the air every few seconds.

"So, are you kids not gonna tell me anything?"

"About what, Lieutenant?" Connor asked while giving the coin another flick, then catching it between his index and middle finger. You had to refrain yourself from letting your jaw drop at the precision of his movements.

"We...Well, it all started when Connor was shipped back from Normandy."

"He never told me his real name was Connor." Hank interrupted.

"That's because...Connor isn't his actual name. I-I gave it to him."

"It is my real name now." The Android corrected and did quick work of showing you the passport. It read 'Connor Anderson'.

Your brows furrowed. Why did Conroy use Hank's last name?

"What about mine?" You asked, patting Connor's knee softly to get his attention. "What does mine say?"

"(Y/n) Anderson."

"But that's-"

"My name, yeah." Hank interrupted. "Conroy thought it'd be more believable if we acted like Connor was my son and you were his fiancé or whatever." He noticed your confused expression and added. "Look, I don't exactly get off on giving strangers my family name either."

"Still. That's very kind of you, Lieutenant." You smiled softly. "That you're willing to do all of this for us when you barely even know our past." He rolled only his eyes. 

"Yeah, whatever. You're welcome."

You looked back at Connor, who was staring at his coin absentmindedly. "Everything okay?"

"Yes." The Android only nodded to accompany his answer.

"You were saying something about Col-Connor getting shipped back from Normandy." Hank spoke up, watching you through the rearview mirror for a few seconds before turning his attention back to the road.

"Right. I was tasked with repairing him, and while I did that he...grew on me." You explained, feeling heat gather in your face as Connor's eyes were curiously trained on you. "When Kamski announced that he was going to be shipped back to France, we decided to run away."

"As in...you decided." Hank corrected.

That made your breath catch in your throat. Hank did have a point. What if Connor had never wanted this? What if he had just followed you blindly? Did he really have free will to begin wi-

"No. I didn't want to return to France." Connor spoke sternly. "I decided for myself that running away with (y/n) was the option I preferred."

Hank struggled not to show any reaction, but you could clearly notice his eyes widening in the slightest. He was surprised, but concealed it with a clueless half-shrug. "Huh."

"I understand how it can be surprising to find out that a machine can gain free will, Lieutenant."

"You really did change." Hank stated, slowing down the car. 

"Can I ask you one more thing?" The chocolate-eyed Android continued, giving the quarter one last flick before storing it inside his suit.

Hank squinted at the road, as if he were weighing out his options, then agreed with a subtle nod.

"Why did you call me Cole?"

"It's the name I gave you back in Normandy."

"Does it have a meaning?"

"Why should it have a meaning?" Hank answered in a suspiciously defensive tone. He then sighed, shook his head and answered while focusing back on driving. "Yeah. I...You reminded me of my son. I named you after him."

"Oh."

"Knowing Connor, Cole sounds like a wonderful person, then." You added with a friendly smile. "I'm sure he's a fine man."

"Cole died when he was six."

Oh.

"We're almost at the border. Prepare yourselves and your passports. No weird or suspicious behavior, got it?" Hank was quick to change the subject, although you could see his eyes glisten in the slightest.

"Got it." You and Connor both answered at the same time.

You mentally repeated the Lieutenant's words to yourself, as if to calm yourself down. Everything was going to be fine. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

The Android handed you the small notebook-like document as you shakily took it from him.

"Take a deep breath and stay calm." Connor whispered only loud enough for you to hear. Hank's car came to a slow halt. He rolled down the window beside him, revealing an officer, about in his thirties, standing beside the car.

"Hello, may I see your IDs please?"

"Of course." He turned around to collect yours and Connor's.

The man took them from the grey-haired man and inspected the first one carefully.

"Hank Anderson. Age: 53. That must be you." The officer concluded and handed the document back.

"Connor Anderson?"

"That's my son. Over there." Hank leisurely pointed at the seat behind his. The officer lowered himself to peek at the backseat, squinting at Connor before nodding and analyzing the passport closer. Oh no. Trained eyes could probably detect if a document was fake. Hank was quick to react and distract the man. "We're going on a short holiday to visit my daughter-in-law's family in Canada. Good people, we're really excited to meet them."

He smiled at Hank and gave a quick nod, then handed the document back to Hank. After that, he looked at yours.

"So that's (y/n) Anderson, correct?" He gestured towards you.

"Yeah." You nodded, showing the most convincing smile you could muster. You could literally feel your heart burst with erratic pumps.

"Enjoy your holiday."

"We will, thanks. Have a nice day." Hank took your passport from him and rolled up his window, then drove away. 

You exhaled in relief when the Lieutenant was already driving away from the border. 

"Nicely done, kids." The old man said with a tinge of happiness in his voice.

You were safe.

Finally.

Bouncing in your seat out of excitement, you could feel tears of happiness well in the corner of your eyes. 

"We did it, Connor! You're free...We can finally live in peace." You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He was quick to reciprocate the movement, a sincere half-smile gracing his features.

Reluctantly, Connor brought his palm up to your face and stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. "We really did. Thank you, (y/n). Without you, I-"

"Fuck." Hank said sharply, interrupting Connor.

Out of instinct, you glanced at him. His eyes were thrown wide open in shock, staring into the rearview mirror, where you could see lights blinking. Red and blue, red and blue.

A police car.

"What? But we-"

"They recognized him in the newspaper." Hank growled and strengthened his grip on the steering wheel and the gearshift. "Connor, get out of the car."


	25. Chapter 25

"What?! Hank, please, don't—"

"He can drive, right?" He asked, completely ignoring your distress.

"Yes." Connor said.

"Good. Get on the driver's seat. Now." Hank abruptly stopped the car. Your hands were shaking with pure distress. What was he trying to do?!

Connor was quick to comply and storm out of the car along with the Lieutenant.  

He switched seats with Hank in the blink of an eye, almost faster than you could process. However the Lieutenant didn't get back inside the car. He remained outside, removing a handgun from his belt.

"No. No, no, no." You mumbled. He wasn't going to harm you, was he? He-

"Lieutenant, get in the car!" Connor shouted.

"Drive, Connor, and don't look back, as far away from the border as you can."

He was trying to protect you and Connor?

"But what's going to happen to you?" You screamed, loud enough for him to hear.

"I'll watch your back and keep them away. And after that, I'll...I'll go see Cole. In the most noble way I could have wished for."

"We won't lea—"

"Do you want to keep playing the hero or do you want to be free? Just go already, for fuck's sake!" He said, then fired two bullets at the cop approaching you. Connor took a deep breath, then stomped down on the pedal, causing the car to gain speed brusquely and you to fall back in your seat.

"Hang on tight, (y/n)." Connor instructed, his once doe eyes now burning with determination, trained on the road. 

You risked one last glance behind you, seeing one of the officers force Hank onto his knees, then glue a gun to his temple. The Lieutenant smiled sincerely, with a blissful honesty you had never seen on his face. Then, a bullet bore through his forehead, blood spraying on the asphalt and oozing down his face as he collapsed forward, body going limp.

What had you done?

—

About fifteen minutes later, once were sure that the police had lost track of you, Connor pulled up on the side of a road, stopping the car's engine. You were still speechless, eyes fixated on the back of Connor's head, fists clenched painfully hard, unable to process what you had just done. You had just made someone die...for your freedom. Someone had given their life for nothing else other than your selfish desire to stay with the person you loved.

"I have identified traces of slight dehydration, along with almost deadly stress levels." Connor spoke up, exiting the car with slow, careful movements. He opened the backseat door and offered you a hand, gingerly helping you onto your feet. Your entire frame was trembling, knees weak.

Everything was your fault.

"It's alright, (y/n). Deep breaths. I'm here." Connor's voice ripped you out of your trance. He was searching your backpack for a water bottle, which he quickly managed to find.

"Fuck." You whispered, burying your face in your hands. "We just let someone die. For my cause."

"Hank deliberately sacrificed himself for us. I may not have remembered him very well...but I have a feeling that he would have done it a long time ago, if he had ever gotten the chance to. Or maybe he thought he owed me for saving him. I'm sure he had his reasons."

"He seemed like a good man. I wish I—"

"We shouldn't squander what he has tried to provide for us. If he sacrificed himself for us, I'm certain he would have wanted us to keep trying to fulfill our dreams. Our dreams of being free." Connor explained softly, unscrewing the water bottle and handing it to you. "Drink up."

Reluctantly, with your subconscious still screaming that you didn't deserve any of this, you took a mouthful of it and swallowed it down, along with the forming knot in your throat. Connor was right.

"Thank you." You said and gave it back to him. "You should drink some t- Never mind. Sorry." You corrected yourself, shaking you head. You had almost forgotten Connor's true nature for a second.

"It's alright." He assured you while storing the flask back inside the backpack. "It's refreshing to know someone considers me a human for once. Even if it's just for a moment."

Oh, Connor. Your sweet, loving, Connor.

"Can I hug you?" You asked out of the blue. You were afraid of being a little too needy—you did have more important things to do after all. But Hank dying, constantly being on the run, Brennan, everything had been so utterly draining. A knot, strangulating and intense formed, then tightened in your throat.

"I'm always glad to provide moral support." Connor said with an almost invisible smile. You buried your head in his chest, finally breaking, tears starting to stream down your face. Gingerly, you could feel him bring his arms to rest on your back protectively, leaning his chin against the top of your head.

You could feel his hands reluctantly travel up and down your back, fingers drawing invisible circles on your skin through the material of your skirt.

"I'm so sorry, Connor. About everything, I..." You struggled talking through your aching throat, which the Android seemed to have picked up on.

"Don't speak. You're hurting yourself." He instructed in the gentlest tone he could muster, then let go of you, only keeping his right hand on the small of your back. "We should get going."

He ushered you inside the car, on the passenger seat, then walked around the car, settling on the front seat. 

You wiped away the rest of your remaining tears, swallowing thickly and urging yourself to relax.

With a quick motion, Connor turned on the engine, resuming the road. The speedometer needle steadily swayed back and forth over the number 40 mph.

Minutes passed faster than you could process, with the rumbling engine serving as the only background noise between you and Connor. You watched the landscape: a corn field, trees, grass, slowly being swallowed by pavement and a growing number of buildings. You could only guess that you were driving towards Toronto.

"How are you feeling?" Connor asked suddenly.

"Guilty, I guess. Maybe even nauseous. But still a bit better, thanks to you." You smiled gently.

"Good." Connor lifted his right hand off the steering wheel, reluctantly hovering it over you, then setting it back on the steering wheel.

"I don't mind." You whispered.

Connor had a quick sideways glance at you before taking a deep breath. He slowly settled his hand on your leg, thumb drawing patterns into the top of your thigh. Goosebumps flooded your skin.

Suddenly, he removed his arm from your limb and began rummaging through the things scattered around Hank's car, checking between the seats.

"Something wrong?" You asked.

"No, I...thought I identified something familiar." Connor mumbled before dipping his hand inside the mess of objects. Seconds later, he pulled it back out, holding a back, rectangle-shaped object. A cassette.

"Music?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Well, if my assumption is correct..." Connor shrugged his shoulders and plugged it inside the car radio.

Only a few seconds and crackles later, a song started. Jazzy, groovy and light-hearted. The song you and Connor had danced on.

With a bitter smile, you closed your eyes. That night seemed years away, when it only had been days. For a moment, you could have sworn you saw Brennan's face, cheekily smiling as always. Maybe things had been better before all of this. Before all the sacrifices. When you and Connor used to live in blissful unawareness.

With a sigh, you opened your eyes again, glancing at Connor. The early noon sun bathed his dashing features in a soft, melancholically warm yellow, and turned his usually doe chocolate eyes, which were intently focused on the road, syrupy. He softly nodded his head from side to side to the rhythm of the song.

"We'll make it through. Everything. This is only the beginning of something great, (y/n)." He spoke softly, then glanced at you.

That was when you realized that every single sacrifice really had been worth a lifetime spent with the one you love. With Connor.


End file.
